A Twenty-Four London Bus!

Riding on the lower deck

Of a bright red London bus

Departed from Victoria station terminus

And designated number twenty - four

Bound for Trafalgar Square

Via Westminster and along Whitehall

Passed Cenotaph and pavement mounted guards

I look around at fellow passengers

Trying not to stare

Betraying  nosy interest

I wonder at the passengers around

A woman with a constant  smile

What makes her happy?

Perhaps she has just received

News that her cancer is in remission

Another with an active child

Their ethnicities do not match?

Is she the mother or perhaps a carer?

Employed by a prosperous family

A young man is never off his ‘phone

He shouts abuse for all to hear

What causes such raised tones?

Has he discovered his wife’s affair?

Or is he an aspiring actor just out- auditioned

We have reached my stop

And time to visit the National Gallery

And I will never know the

Circumstances of my short-lived

Encounters with fellow passengers

Riding on the bright red London bus

Nor will I discover what inspired

The artists of paintings I am about to see

I reflect that we are not privy to lives of others

Unless they wish to reveal them

Any why should they?

Except to those they love and trust