36 route

Come on a ride on the 36 bus with me.

Follow a Dream
Driving through a greenspace
Crane your neck, look back
Look up at that hill when the sun hits just right
Follow a dream.

I used to think it was like a hill in the alpines,
Only lower,
So that when you climbed up you'd come to the endless grassland.
Perhaps an old rusty tennis court and a few areas that were once shorn.

I used to think that if I followed it long enough
I'd reach the world's end.
The end of my world,
Where the beginning of the next would be plain.

I used to think it was where the rainbow used to end.
A scar on the forested ground...
Wa it perhaps some road to some fantastical city?
Or perhaps a road that would wind,
Wind
Wind
To the sea.

Driving through a greenspace
Crane your neck, look back
Look up at that hill when the sun hits just right
Follow a dream.

There is a very pretty greenspace on the 36 route. It has this one area that is scarred of trees, and it has nothing but tall yellow grass. And when the sun hits just right, it is truly the road to Drumleman...but I prefer more oft traveled routes.

Chinatown
Chow mein.
Chop Suey.
Dancing.
And the building, old as the Goon building in the heart of things,
Advertises a long-gone attraction.

Bright dragons climb on lampposts--
Among outdoor markets and ginseng shops
And Sichuan restaurants
New Kowloon Seafood Restaurant.
Kowloon--nine dragons, written neatly and elegantly upon signs.

The 36 passes through Chinatown, and you can see many things such as these.

Broad Street Lawn
They said the Klezmer band was going to be here.
And they were.
And the people were climbing on the orange sculpture
And lines of dancers were dancing Jewish dances.
And the music captivated us.

"Broad Street!" the driver calls, and through the rainy windows
A glimpse of emerald green and brilliant, wet orange
Is all that is left of the memory
As I glimpse the Seattle Center.

They said the Klezmer band was going to be here.
And they were...only they switched the line-ups at the last minute.
And the clouds were moving, and the Space Needle towering,
And I said, "Is that falling?" as a joke
And she said, "Well, I hope not!" and we laughed.

"Broad Street!" the driver calls, and it's May
They're setting up booths and pavillions
And a memory will become one with reality in a week.
And I can't wait.

I'm going to miss the Northwest Folklife Festival this year. Just my luck, Atwater-Donnelly would show up and we'd be stuck in Lone Valley. That is a joke, because I'm sure they wouldn't show up. Alas, Friday they will be within easy driving distance of Seattle (Portland, OR, 3 hours) and we won't be there. Oh, well.

End of Day
It's the end of the day
And the sun is Midas, touching everything
For a minute.

The bus pulls up to the silent street corner
And we get out
Long thin shadows trail us.

It is silent, but for the robins
And the breeze blows lightly,
And the cherry tree is greener than ever
Against the dry brown grass.

The sun will be setting soon
And it will be nighttime.
And I will go out to sing
Songs of joy, songs of sorrow
And go in,
For tomorrow is another day
And another day is tomorrow
Another summer day.

Oh, summer night...
Saro