She's sitting across from me
gazing out the scratched window
her schoolbag next to her
I keep loking at the way the sun comes in
makes her hair brown
her bright questioning eyes
soft natural features
i can see that she is
different.  
across the blackened scarred floor
she waits.
The Bus strains and clatters
weaving through the streets
a blur of steel glass air conditioning diesel fuel
and her.
She's sitting across from me
but only sees the world around her
the world she knows.
The red panel in front lights up with a bell
As The Bus slowly whines to a halt
she stands up
her hand gliding along the metal bar
as she descends the yellow-streaked steps
gently onto the black asphalt
she turns towards me
smiles
and she is gone.