Wind whips at my hair through the open bus window,
Creating a witch-like pose around my head.
Dogs howl and I know it is a warning,
It creeps through my body like a spreading disease.
The ocean is far away but I hear it groan,
Its fate decided by the merciless wind,
Whitecapped waves scarring the surrounding earth.
I peer out the window of the bus,
An alien machine with a single purpose.
So close to life, but still so far.
My destination is near.
I walk carefully to the driver,
“Tis time we be stoppin’ at the next road” I remind him.
He nods accordingly and replies “Aye”.
The bus does not stop gently.
I step off uncertainly,
And that’s when the storm begins.
