Highway Pantoum by Kathrine DuVal

Buses are lonesome beasts. When there’s snow outside, the quiet is deadly. Once, I was small as a strawberry seed— The lines on the road slowly faded away.


When there’s snow outside, the quiet is deadly. Three years, I drove alongside my mother. The lines on the road slowly faded away. Now, we can only make phone calls.


Three years, I drove alongside my mother. When she sang little lullabies, I offered the harmony. Now, we can only make phone calls. I’ll hear her when the party line is free.


When she sang little lullabies, I offered the harmony. Give her a glass and ask for “Stormy Weather.” I’ll hear her when the party line is free. I bought my ticket, headed for Tulsa.


Give her a glass and ask for stormy weather. My mama will show you a real good fight. I bought my ticket, headed for Tulsa— Just one nervous night shadow.


My mama will show you a real good fight— She never learned not to spin so fast in circles, Just one nervous night shadow. I’ll keep my eyes open as long as I can.


I never learned not to spin so fast in circles— Apart, we can set each other straight. I’ll keep my eyes open as long as I can— Buses are lonesome beasts.