“Bus Just Stoppped at Rosebrocks!”

school bus

“Bus just stopped at Rosebrocks!”

It was the window watcher’s call

early on school mornings,

when four children were rushing about,

gobbling down Corn Flakes, packing lunches,

stuffing books in bags,

shrugging on sweaters or coats, and

running combs or brushes through bed hair.

First one done with all or most of these tasks

took up station at the west sewing room window.


The Rosebrocks, closest neighbor to the west,

lived half a mile up Buckskin Road,

and when the bus stopped there

and lit up the red flashing lights

we knew we had two to three minutes at most

to be in place on the south side of Buckskin

across from the mailbox, ready for pick up.


It was bad form to be rushing out of the house

as the bus was pulling up, and heaven forbid,

if no one was ready and the bus driver

laid on the loud, impatient, petulant horn—

that precipitated a melee of shouting, grabbing, running

and jeers or laughter from kids already on the bus.


But our driveway was short.

The real sport happened at the Crites’ farm,

last stop on Farmer-Mark Road before school,

with its quarter-mile-long driveway

and three brothers who seemed to relish

the bus driver’s blaring horn,

and the mad sprint down the driveway,

with kids on the bus cheering on the runners

and congratulating the winner as he mounted the steps

sucking in large gasps of air.


I decided then I was thankful

for fair warning of the bus’s approach

and a short driveway.

About stevenddorsey

I have been an avid writer for as long as I can remember. I enjoy composing poetry, lyrics, children's books and fiction for young adults. I have traveled the world extensively in my 25+ year career as an International Development professional and executive. I have lived in Europe, Latin America, and Africa. I speak Spanish and French. I married Rachel Miltimore in 1985. We have five children and five grandchildren. We currently live in Manassas, Virginia. We enjoy writing children's books together.
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