the bus stop

patiently standing --crowd undemanding
bus is late--rains not great
feet soaked--paper on puddles float
plane to catch--no plan to hatch
looking around--gone in a dream
only thing to do -it seems
amazed at the wonder--of all the umbrellas
girls,on theirs stars--even the fellas
colours of the world--above our heads
spots and stripes--yellow and red
when i'm up in the plane--ill look down below
i hope it's still raining--umbrellas don't go
all the little mounds--i would see up there
waiting at the bus stop--can i spot the same pair?
if we floated to the air with them
an amazing sight it would be
we could wave to the bus on the way by
and fly to new york for free