Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site


A face presses against the frosty Schoolbus window. A pair of eyes Searches out mine. Construction Down the road has made us comrades In gridlock. Before long, we are engaged In a dialogue of waves. Where, child, Will life take you? Will you have A son or daughter whose face will one day Warm a frigid morning? The traffic begins to flow. Soon you are lost to me forever.

Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.