Island to Mainland

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Now the sweltering heat is past
the westbound sun nears home at last;
Wailing busboys sell their routes
dangling from thier jalopies port.
Now and again the crowd grows thin
The hulks of metal are fed and crammed
Shoulder to shoulder, back to knee
With willing homegoers who survive the ordeal
Cash is passed from hand to hand
Balance and change is bickered about
While Rolling fast over the bridge-
the wind through the Windows comfort the lot-
Who Like the sun all homeward bound.
When in darkness they all touch ground
Happy limbs uncramped to ease a bit and sleep tonight;
Then just like the the sun thats gone
bound to repeat the toil again.

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