almost forgot!!

  Stopping by a Bus on a Snowy Evening
    by Robert Frostbitten

  Whose bus this is I think I know.
  His home is cross the river though;
  He will not mind me stopping here
  To watch his bus be topped with snow.

  My little bus must think it queer
  To stop each time we get so near
  To other buses that we see
  Parked at the malls or stores, like here.

  Its little engine idles rough
  To ask if I have had enough.
  The only other sound I hear
  Is wiper blades on snowy fluff.

  His bus is lovely, clean and bright,
  A pleasing note of all that's right.
  But I have traffic still to fight,
  And miles to go this winter's night.