Bus
 
There is just a handful
of us yet the bus is full.
A few youngers wear 
their masks as throat warmers.
This pandemic won’t touch them,
they are immortal.
 
I was immortal too, once,
yet now I am mindful
behind my mask. 
My fears concealed,
the bus carries me
on this part of my journey.

Andy Eycott

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Andy Eycott  would be pleased to hear them.