Orange Line

Others stare
Just a moment
Before bending back to books
Or coffee,
Scanning newspaper print,
Reading between the lines.

Lady across sits straight.
Arms around her bags.
Afraid.

Next to her, a boy.
His book is upside down.
He stares it down.
Frowning
As pines slide by the window.
And the freeway.

While the operator warns
Of suspicious packages

And me in my black socks and brown shoes.

That woman loves the sun.
Pile of yellow curls.
Freckled face.
Pink glasses
Hide her eyes.

This girl asleep in her seat,
Disagrees.
She has stars in her ears.

A man in a black suit swallows.
Twice.
Looks down at his square leather toes.

What happens when the bomb blows?

When we cross the Blue Line,
I look up.
The lady is gone.
Along
With the man and sleeping girl.
But the boy
With the book
Remains
Reading
In reverse.

I hate these socks.