The devil’s bus

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In the early morning
When the sun is yet to shine
And the crow in the hutch lying
Waiting light to crow as a
Welcome to dawn
There’s always a quiet
That hangs around like mist
Making a leaf rustle a hefty drum beat
And a cricket, a siren in a police post
Then all at once it comes
Rumbles, creaks and hoots
Slicing the air like a knife
Shaking the ground as though dough
It comes to a halt at the village center
With a grind of brakes and screeching of tires
The loose body flaps end the noise cacophony
With a clatter
And the great door of the bus is opened with a fuss
People alight and some board
Those who arrive don cloaks
To ward off the chill that grips and enshrouds
And take off from the station of the
Devil’s bus!