A bus with yellow doors and red decals
saying ‘city route’ will stop for me,
but I’ll have to say ‘sorry’ with cute round eyes
because I’m busy looking around,
at the supermarket with its green roof
and the full-to-the-brim parking lots,
the run-down bookshop with the friendly owner
who wears a pink vintage dress every day,
the shop in the corner that sells lawnmowers
even in snowing winters,
the two craft shops that are up before the sun,
the city I’ll be calling home.