The Bus Stops in June

Head on the wet window

Of the school bus

Bangs damp

Legs sticking

Like old gum

Knees pressed against

The seat in front of me

A seat belt crashing

Onto my chest

After a stop sign

I recognize you

With my headphones

Through songs my parents

Used to play in the car

I understand the words

Better than I understand

Myself

The bus stops in June

I never get back on

My headphones

Keep playing

I delete certain songs

© 2026 Casey Murphy. All rights reserved.

If this resonated, feel free to share, comment, or subscribe.

I also offer thoughtful written feedback and creative guidance through my Creative Development Space for writers who want to grow. You can learn more here:

Thank you for reading.