sparrowsdrinking from the laden guttering
dark skies
© Rachel Green 2019
powering through the dark lanes
the bus' engine makes the floor vibrate
Saturday night.
Last bus home.
A disco in Redditch
and my eternal optimism
to find someone to love.
My hopes dashed again
though at least I got to talk to a girl
so I call that a win.
I hope Dad's in bed
by the time I've walked the mile
from the bus stop in Alvehurch.
Or will I again face the sarcasm
his ever-present humour
at my lonely expense.
I ring the bell
as we pass the now-closed chippy
and stumble forward
as the driver brakes.
The Red Lion is still lit.
Time for a last drink?
I can pass for eighteen.
© Rachel Green 2019
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