family gwine up/down

of all the buses in the world, 
you get on with that impeccable toddler
taking him home to your sister.
it isn't my usual route or time
to go up/down sad miles of dusty pre-owned cars,
gwine to my storage.
space, valuable moments in tow.
i relocate to sit near you
and your nephew in a puffy blue coat,
his cherub hair and seal sky eyes.
i look at your hair
what it is doing on each side. 
it looks good today,
what fun. one young couple gets on
with a flimsy stroller full of child.
another stop brings another
stroller family entourage, as i watch
them boarding you suggest i make room
for them, of course. i should,
and do move out of their way. it was
sweet how you and your charge
followed, our random
yet precious time. after what sixteen seventeen
years every day our wheels
and children engines seldom apart,
or misfiring.