Bus Driver
She’s the
Waffle House server, belongs in a
2am diner,
serving pancakes and refilling my coffee.
I haven’t seen her in awhile,
but she’s driving me home. She
dyed her hair, permed it-
I think it was permed before but
fading.
Copper suits her, under the
copper glow of streetlamps
lighting up exit signs
as we make our way
to I-25.