You are riding the bus again
burrowing into the blackness of Interstate 80,
the sole passenger
with an overhead light on.
...
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a companionship epistle for the running-away alcoholic self; the reality outside the self is offering corroboration of no inherent will to hurt nor to 'fix' the self.
Of those included in this online collection, this is Wright's best poem. It's about one of our basic human conditions called loneliness. Reflection frames our loneliness and riding on a bus on an empty interstate puts us in the same seat with the writer. Good stuff.