The Bus Driver’s Son by Gareth Culshaw

I see him today behind the wheel.
Not so long back he was standing
with a tie and ‘V’ neck jumper
watching his father drive the bus.
His father had long black hair,
that looked farm worn. I always
remembered the dirt in the nails
like he had to fix his bus every
so often. Today his son sits
behind the wheel of time.
He has a quieter tongue and eyes
that don’t steal the sunlight.
He takes your money with a light
palm, his nails cleaner, hair
groomed. The bus glides along,
as it carts the human cattle.
I haven’t seen his father in awhile.
I wonder if he is there, in his son’s
shoes, telling his him when the earth
needs to brake.

Gareth lives in Wales. He has his first collection out in 2018 by futurecycle.