Windows of my bus

Tiny streams of water run backward

Connecting, flailing, moving in impossible directions

The blurry shrubs at the other side hastily pass by

Quite an experience, sights warped to an illusion;

The sky quickly clears and the waters have settled

The window's still unclear but what peeked gleamed enough

A familiar smile awaiting me at the other side

Dampened my eyes after such a long and tiring ride