In memory of Chad William Powell and in honor of Mary and Bill Powell and all the ones who traveled some with Chad

With love from Chris McLaughlin

Seems like close to forever
I’ve been standing here,
the wind blowing my hair,
the sun beating me down.
I’m tired and I’m hungry
and I’m probably late.
 
Get on Mr. Chad’s bus
and he’ll give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.
 
There’s a woman with gray
hair, and most days we talk.
Her wild mind’s surprising,
the things that it knows,
but today’s been so hard
she is bowing her head.
 
Sleep on Mr. Chad’s bus
and he’ll give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.
 
Once I thought I would
surely go some other place,
be some kind of body,
do something that’s big.
Didn’t think I’d be traveling
A county bus route.
 
Ride on Mr. Chad’s bus
and he’ll give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.
 
We sit farther apart now—
I don’t really mind.
I think who I once loved,
the one who loved me,
and remember when
rivers and I both ran free.
 
Dream on Mr. Chad’s bus
and he’ll give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.
 
A girl in blue headphones
sits way up in front
near a boy in a skullcap
who stares at his iPad.
The air’s charged between
them, the rest of us see.
 
Fall in love on the bus,
Chad will give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.
 
The sun’s getting lower,
let the driver drive on.
The world passes by us—
or we’re passing by it—
all the sweet souls who
gather in Mr. Chad’s bus.
 
We’re all going home now
on Mr. Chad’s bus,
we’re all going home now
on Mr. Chad’s bus.
 
On Mr. Chad’s bus
he’ll give you a smile.
Take a seat by the window;
you can rest for a while.