ghost moon / by Erin

slipping between the clouds, it's only 6pm and the moon is strong and high. churning down the road, houses on my left, brown river on my right, and the sky is slowly turning purple, my eyes are tired, tired of looking and i kind of hate that purple sky. i look again, and the moon has gone translucent. i'm thrown forward at my stop, lurching, and i swear.
fuck i hate riding the bus.