NIGHT PASSAGE

riding the highway
at night
on a bus

half-a-dozen
of us travellers
scattered
in the forty-two seats

dozing
or chatting
maybe reading
or just staring
at the inside
of our own skulls

i like the distance
between the towns
stretches of field
and pasture
without light

only
the distant treeline
against
the faint sky

and once in a while
a tiny dot
or two
of warm yellow

from
the farmhouse windows

who have night passengers
of their own
to comfort.