Bus Riders

Chatter and laughter from each cluster
But the singles come
Not alone:
They sing and nod,
Bounce back and forth in their seats
Mumble to
Argue with
Others less visible even
Than they.

He
In his lucid moments
Sings a little
And mostly listens in awe when
The chattering stops.

She
Touches the ground less and less
Arguing with Angels
And stands and stomps away when
He sits near her.

He
Hears them talk again inside his head
About things unreal
And wonders if she’s one of them
Or one of THEM.