Sun shelf clouds lead heavy,

triasic rain mends the mind,

rings the ear.

 

Somebody pressed the button on the bus

 

to get off

they leave

and another

gets on

but

 

this time the sun

decides to erupt.

 

Solar flare.

Children to fire,

the driver melts

a damp neck slower, top deck

screams, greedy crawls

 

and still

outside, a line of flames

waiting to get on.