I get the school bus at the first stop, 7:30 on an
autumn morning. Bright and wet, nursing
hot cocoa
in my chilled hands. I have a choice of empty seats
to huddle into, a whole aisle of green
pleather
benches. I sit in the front, behind the driver.
It's too early, too crisp, too much of a day to
leave
distance between me and anything.
I grin.
The window rattles
as we make our way through slowly waking
neighborhoods, picking up sleepy kids one by one.
The frosted lawns sharpen to a crisp green as the
dew fades away. I drink up the rest of the cocoa and
lean on the dirty window pane warming in the pale
sunlight.
It sparkles.
The
scratches and deficiencies in the glass trap
lukewarm rays and play with them, a rainbow
veil in front of everything outside.
And the
sky is blue.
It's 50 degrees and I'm prepared
to ace this test today.
It's Autumn, it's
colorful, brilliant, crisp.
And I love the way
the sun looks anemic at this time of day.
It's
morning, glorious morning, and I'm happy.