The road
snakes up the hillside
carrying busloads
and carloads
of excitable
schoolchildren and
resigned
domestics contemplating the day's
chores
Gardeners stand in
comradeship
with their
Weedwhackers
that hillside
is the Divider
Haves above
Nots
below
the twain meet
surreptitiously
cash
changes hands
flesh presses on
flesh
The one
gets clothes fresh
pressed
and steamed
children
fed and set
before their
phones and
tablets
the other
gets calluses cat-calls
and
crises (craaasses)
of one sort or
another
yet
each new
Dawn
sees them
still sealed in
those yellow
buses
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