the bus stop

you see
a group of children
twitching
nervously
at the bus stop
on the first day
of school.
they are bent over
with their full
back packs.
they look like
Himalayan
hikers about to
climb the summit.
their hair is
brushed or combed
in place.
their skinny arms
and legs are still
bare in the summer
heat, they stare
down the empty
road waiting for that
awful orange bus
while the parents
with arms folded
and tears
in their worried
eyes stand close
to one another,
waiting too.