Bus Stop Conversation - Mona Parkes

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?
And why does traffic swerve away
like roebuck from a lion’s charge?
And let me ask you, if I may
Why so damn fast and why so large?
Well, it’s a Guernsey bus, eh, you explain.

Where’s it coming from, I inquire?
Who knows? is the reply I hear.
They come, they go. Don’t tempt the fates.
At bus stops, pray. One may appear.
May even stop. They’re like the States:
a law unto themselves, eh, squire.

Mona Parkes