Today another “this could have been written in Paris but wasn’t” haiku, by Australian poet Janice Bostok.
talking we visit places
within each other
I love taking the bus in Paris, and use the system more and more to get around the city with friends and clients. It’s a pleasure to see the neighborhoods we pass through.
My favorite lines are the 91 and the 69, the 91 because it was the first line I learned, the 69 because of its interesting, cross-city route.
Each bus begins its journey with a few minutes of quiet rumbling.
Riders get on, settle in, friends lean toward each other and talk in low voices. We focus on the world inside the bus until it begins to move.
And what a rich world it is! I’m grateful to Bostok for her sensitivity to the potential in these moments of waiting, to the trip within the trip.
She turns the image of travel inside-out in this haiku.
Where do you ride the bus?