My best friend Gabby and I went to high school together an hour away from where we grew up. Before either of us earned our driver’s license we relied on public transit. To most, this may sound dreadful. However, to me there is a feeling of familiarity which I fully contribute to all the memories Gabby and I made on the bus. Gabby is a year older than me, so when she moved away to university it was a difficult transition for me to go from having my best friend to goof around with on the boring ride in and out of school, to being alone. My first bus ride of the school year without her I stepped onto the bus and instantly was brought back to simpler times. This is a poem from that state of nostalgia.
The strangely sweet smell of sweat and old faded blue fabric
overloading my senses and exposing echoes of erstwhile seasons.
Unfamiliar faces in my view, a curiosity of what their life is like,
an old game we used to play.
In the distance the sound of your wheezing laughter
encircling my mind in a memory of stupidity and youthfulness.
I sat in our usual spot.
Sun blinding me as per usual, eyeing the seat beside me.
The taste of bittersweetness enthralls every vein.
This place, our place, took us destinations
and onto destinations we will go.