Charlotte Dyer, Grade 7
Rumbling monsters, churning wheel,
Stopping, sliding with a squeal.
Flighty raindrops, slide down the glass,
avoiding puddles as I pass.
Crossing over the glistening road,
Huddle under the shelter, shivers slowed.
Stare right at the flooded ground,
Empty silence, splashing tires a lonely sound.
Peering through the hazy shroud,
orange bus stands out in the crowd.
Smile creeps its way up on my face,
And the bus picks up its merry pace.
Hopping into the warm, bright view,
No more misery, no more blues.