Saul Bennett
21
Trolley transfer points were wondrous at 5,
binding planets.
Awaiting our connecting car
watching our first trolley shimmy off toward
downtown Jupiter held our winter breath.
Our trolley once was a weathered
crimson below the belt, faded cream upper,
belly button headlight
ingesting an endless tube of gathering dusk.
As our next trolley turtled closer Aunt shouted
"Watch out!" backing us off the hilly
cobbled block.
When the conductor shoosed
the flopping steps down
we were first aboard for the run from Northern Boulevard to Mars!