The bus has arrived,
The driver opened the door.
You almost slipped,
And I caught your hand.
You, surprised,
said, “I’m sorry!”.
Couldn’t help it but
Noticed your journal.
“You’re a writer?”
I asked you quietly,
As we walk toward
The last row of seats.
“Why yes, I am.”
You answered me
With your big eyes,
“How did you know?”
