Alpine Bus Stop – a poem by Simona Carini

Alpine Bus Stop 


When people wait on the short stretch of sidewalk 
hugged by the hillside,
in the sun, breeze or drizzle,
through a break in the line of trees 
their gaze can roam over conifer-cloaked hills, 
reach farther, come to rest on the Tre Cime di Lavaredo, 
sharp peaks of dolomite
revered by mountain lovers around the world. 
 
I wonder if planners placed the bus stop here 
on purpose, where no barrier blocks 
the view. Knowing the weather 
can be unkind, the wait long,  
they wished it a time of awe and wonder.

Do the bus riders notice, raise their eyes, 
and in the distance meet the sheer rock walls, 
gray now under showery clouds?
I imagine them pink in the early morning,
flashing golden when snow-mantled,
bluish at twilight, marking in their way 
the passage of days and seasons.

Do they treasure time spent waiting for the bus, 
or is it just a backdrop to their wish for a different job,
a shorter list of worries, a palm-lined beach?

I pray we never become blind to beauty — 
no matter the storm swirling around,
the cold cutting, the sunlight intense —
never take forested hills or mountains for granted,
grateful for a bus stop with a view.

Simona Carini was born and grew up in Italy. She writes poetry and nonfiction and has been published in various venues, online and in print, including Amethyst Press anthology Thin Places & Sacred Spaces (2024). Her first poetry collection Survival Time was published by Sheila-Na-Gig Editions (2022). She lives in Northern California with her husband, loves to spend time outdoors, and works as an academic researcher. Her website is https://simonacarini.com