subterranean

Rode the elevator seven floors down

And walked outside to palm trees

And cool breezes.

There was a bus there waiting for me

Inside the bus were donkeys

And elephants

And dainty ballerinas stretching and

Preening

I started to leave until a hand reached out and touched my arm

I turned to find a man who looked

Like Bob Dylan but told me his name was Jose.

He led me to a seat beside him

We rode in silence ignoring the circus animals

And their wild commotion.

At a park the bus stopped and let

Jose and I exit leaving the noise

And smells behind

We walked to a bench and sat across

From each other.

His brown eyes held the weight of the world

But his voice transported me to a quiet place

Where I could breathe

He asked if he could help me, ease my burden,

Calm the tumult in my soul

I smiled and asked him if he had the credentials to perform such magic.

He laughed at my innocence and told me

All he could do was be there and

Watch me spin into the wind and

Minister to my wounds when I tumble and fall.

I thanked him and said that would do just fine

Until I learned to catch the wind

And soar on my own.

The bus returned and took us back

To where we had begun.

I left the unruly circus crowd and my friend

Jose to ride the elevator back up the seven

Floors to where I lived. The doors slowly opened

And I walked outside to face the storm.