People on the bus today

As usual the old Sikh man with his raspberry turban and braided tobacco-white beard. How does he look so grand, despite high-water pants, ripped shoes and no socks? Something about the way he sits, arms crossed but easily.

Young man with a buzz cut hanging from a pole. Black pants, white shirt, black tie � either a Mormon or a waiter. He slouches under his own weight, stares at nothing. Suddenly does not look young.

At the terminal, a skinny man, skin almost patinaed with dirt, button shirt open, button fly half-undone. He wears a cheap wig of platinum blonde curls. Sucks a pipe with much duct tape and no stem -- Ezekiel with the coal.

A Mennonite woman with silver hair pulled under a black bonnet, little curls damp at her neck. Sweet face with tiered checks and chins. Blue calico dress. Black stockings. Turquoise sneakers with velcro straps.

I think I do these people a disservice, to write them down. They are more than what I make them.

The menno lady looks sideways at the school girl who just got on. A good nine inches of golden leg between white kneesocks and uniform kilt. The girl�s little suede clogs make her shuffle. With those legs, she should run. She has a big bag on one shoulder and stands wide and strong with one hip out. The menno lady looks away.

I sit beside a gorgeous young black man with a neat beard. He has a big hearing aide and a t-shirt that says �never underestimate the quiet ones.� I wouldn�t dare.

A young mother gets on with twins a stroller. An Indian woman, tiny in the way they often are, with a narrow face and long dark braid. She is wearing the most beautiful sari I ever saw � coral with peach flowers, the underside of the scarf peach with coral flowers. She seems to glow.

On the way to the library fall in with a ragged line of kindergarteners heading the same direction. �Let this lady by,� prompts one of the women with them. (Lady!) Behind me one child cries sing-song to another �that�s not suitable!�