Night Ride Poem by Gert Strydom

The bus rolls out
on a cold rainy night
and the greyhound
drives to the freeway

with a friendly hostess
distributing some cool drinks,
toasted sandwiches
with a choice between
chicken and mayonnaise
and cheese and tomato

and a girl watches me,
smiles when I catch her eyes
and there's something familiar,
yet she is a total stranger
and her friendliness let me wonder
if she is maybe a well-off prostitute?

But the way that she is holding her body
tells that she is not selling anything
and she is beautiful
and I wonder what she does for a living?

© Gert Strydom