simple pleasures

my 111th post!

Passenger. Buscards and blouses.
By Scaramouche, the travellin' strawberry po(t)et potato
And: you say potato, I say - no, actually, it's "po(t)et" and it's Norwegian!

Did you ever consider
not getting off?
Simply remain in your seat
and watch the rest

As passer-bys pass by
and windows clouded white
and silence falls
I was never one of the punks playing in the back seats

Did you ever consider
not getting out?
Simply stay in the coupé
and guard the place

As looker-ons look on
and doors opened dramatically
and shadows fall
I was always the one who sat alone with her umbrella

People yell, and they leave
they haunt you, yet only for a minute
are they there with you
People smile, and they're gone
they visit you, yet only for a moment
are they close to you

I am a passenger
on a bus, or a train
or on a walk through life
I observe
and am strictly observed
by possible others
I adore
oblivious to the adoration
of possible others

I won't give up my seat to an old lady with a rain coat
not because I'm bad
but because I want to sit
and just breathe
the warm air in a crowded means of public transport
feeling integrated, included
yet utterly insignificant

but for the time being, at least I may say I am -
I am a passenger.