bus therapy

Sundays are the worst.

Almost twenty years I’ve been a single adult
and I thought I had Sundays down.
But sometimes something shakes loose,
and the loneliness of Sundays
is an almost audible howl.

So when an online friend said
“sometimes I just get on the bus and ride”,
I saw rescue, hopped the nearest bus,
and rode.

I saw both sides of my city,
the K Street with bars on the windows
and the K Street without.
I saw how few blocks there are
between a “bad” neighborhood
and a “good” one.

I felt my own discomfort
as we rode past battered houses,
and I watched until it went away.
(It almost always does, you know)

And in this way I was rescued,
reminded once again that I am not alone
among the solo travelers.

And neither are you.