Bus Ride

By Kate Daniels

Niobe is very old now.
She has hardly anything left
to lose: her teeth, her eyesight
are already gone, her hair's
falling out in gray-black clumps.
All her children are dead.
So when the white man wants
to sit down, and gives her the Look,
she can't tell if it's tiredness
or strength that keeps her fixed
on the plastic seat.
Suddenly
everyone in very quiet.
Heat whirs in through the opens the door and tells her
to get out if she won't move back.
But Niobe won't
move back. She's lived
her life. She knows
she's right. Only god can hurt
someone as much
as she's been hurt.
And they aren't god
because they're scared
of her - an old woman
who's almost crushed
with only this much left:
to lift her chin
and look them in their eyes
and shake her head
and sit there, riding
all the way to Hisotry.