Solitary Bus in the Mountain Night

A bus driving through the pitch black mountainside

Through an overlording eye from the sky to the ground.

See: Turning, constant glide, rectangular object, emanating glow, irregular boundaries from the box’s light splashing onto the stony cliff.

Zoom in now.

Let the object cover half of your field of vision.

Now the starboard and stern sides are visible, and you notice:

Windows,

It is a bus!

Glide as you follow the bus,

But look at the cliff,

Hugged by the bus,

Jagged and jutting,

Then smooth,

Texture like plasticine, and wax.

The only terrestrial light for miles?

That bus,

But look at that light!

From a moon blurred by clouds.

Not that light!

Cliff, in fact,

Light projection blanketing the foot of the cliff in a warm orange fuzz.

Buzz goes the engine,

But I was wrong,

Out close to the horizon,

Another just like you sailing over a hill coming fast!

That the buses are following a predetermined path,

An elusive fact only illuminated at a certain location when one drives by and reveals the mountainside leaning pensively over a road.

But is soon gone as the light moves on through the darkness of the horizon. 

 

Author's Note

All forms of criticism welcome!