Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Ode To a String On a Bus in India
A little knot
That Time forgot,
A frayed and forlorn twine:
To be exact
It held, intact,
This humble life of mine.
A rusty bus
Was kept, thus,
And I preserved inside:
Jostled about
I'd have fallen out
If the string weren't tied.
-TheElementary
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6 comments:
I like your poem--are you back in the frozen U.S.?
I've driven a tractor whose parts were held together by baling twine but never ridden a bus held together by string. Can't wait to hear all about your recent adventures!
Oh good lord! I cannot wait to hear about your adventures when you get pack...this poem is a delicious teaser.
We've been waiting. Nice way to start back. I'll be checking by. Pappy
Glad you posted from India - and love the pic.
Beth, thanks! I wasn't, but I am now :)
Pauline, oh, a tractor. That's one method of transport I didn't try!
Courtney, a teaser indeed ;) there's plenty more.
Texican, the wait is over :) I'm definitely back now. That one was posted from India.
Paul, yes that was from India. I was a bit wary of us taking the picture as I already attracted enough attention by being on the bus in the first place, but thankfully we got the photo in the end!
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