almost home

with his thin
black hair combed back,
held down by a palm
full of brylcreem,
the small boy
on the bus, fidgeting
in his seat sucking
on a fat red
lollipop, putting
his sticky fingers
on the hard tinted
glass windows,
pointed up at the
sky, his terrible
blue eyes gleaming
in the light, and
said to his mother,
the sky sure looks
religious today,
don't it momma.
and she turned
her shoulder when
he tapped her with
the lollipop, lifting
her wide brimmed
hat that she bought
just for church, she
leaned towards
the window into
the sunlight where
he was looking and
said, my o my,
junior, you are so
right, just look at
those clouds,
it certanly does
look like Jesus
had something to do
with that sky today,
don't it. now sit
back down before this
bus jolts to a stop
and sends you flying
across the bus
through a window.
she tapped him on
the head with her
hymnal and said, just
be still boy,
we're almost home.