You look so out of place
Old man – sitting there
Expressionless and detached
In this red bus.
I can gaze without fear
That you will notice me,
For your eyes are seeing
Another scene, your feet
Walking in the hot dust
Of a distant land,
Under a warmer sun.
Holding the hand of a brown child
Running by your side.
Is that why you are here
Old man? Did that child
Walk away, half grown, all knowing
With adventure in his eyes?
You waited. You prayed.
And then you joined him.
I can see in your face what it cost you -
The price of loving
That a father pays.
The child is a man now
With an alien culture grown around him.
He has forgotten all the fuss
Of dogs, chickens and children.
He never weeps for the warm night air
Full of voices, or the old friends left behind.
But you ride alone, in a foreign land
On a red bus,
And remember.