Photography- Photographer Kelly Evans
the road widens, dust lifts, faded pole
Not every useful bus stop
has a shelter.
Sometimes it is only
a faded pole,
a torn sticker,
a patch of shade beside the road.
You wait with workers,
shopping bags,
someone carrying flowers in newspaper.
A dog sleeps under the bench,
if there is a bench.
Then a bus appears
windows breathed over,
steps worn pale in the middle.
Getting on feels less like departure
than joining
something already in motion.