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I like to sit at the front of the bus
and keek through the hole
at the driver's heid.
As he pulls on the wheel
and gives the odd cuss,
he disnae ken I'm there.
You can see the hale world fae the tap of a bus:
turbans and burkas, saris with cardis,
kilts with Doc Martens,
Hoodies and Neds in Burberry caps,
Morningside ladies in sensible hats.
Traffic-wardens, grey as sharks
with fluorescent stripes, circle
ready tae strike.
The blind man's dug sits obediant at the kerb,
his flesh flabby.
I'd gie him a guid run.
We stop-start, shoogled aboot in our seats
by traffic cones, road-works,
jay-walkers and drunks.
Crash go the branches
as we lean intae a corner.
Hold tight! Ting! Ting!
We fall doon the stairs.
Published in 'The Thing that Mattered Most: Scottish poems for children' edited by Julie Johnstone (Black & White Publishing, May 2006) and in 'Reading Round Edinburgh' edited by Lindsey Fraser and Kathryn Ross (Floris Books, 2007).