• We sat on the bus,
    She stared out of the window,
    Looking at the black and white Indian mare,
    The only thing that protects her,
    Barbwire that someone has put up,
    She can’t be touched,
    With hands,

    Only
    With
    Eyes

    She was delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist,
    She bowed to her slightly like a swan,
    She wanted to say hello,
    She wanted the bus to stop,

    The
    Bus
    Continued
    On,

    The lonely pony stood in the desolate field,
    The bus held her like a prison
    Only when someone touched her was the mare darken with kindness,
    Only when touched did she burst into blossom,
    She wanted the bus to stop,
    Touch her,

    Take for wild
    her a ride,

    See all of the countryside in a night of fun,
    Both drink from a wet stream,
    Be warmed by the heat of one another,
    To hold her,
    Make the loneliness disappear
    See the darken kindness in her eyes,
    The
    Bus
    Continued
    On.