Sisters

Sisters

At the end of the country road where the hill ends,
two little girls were running.
They were sisters who saw the bus stop.
The old blue bus panted and stopped at the end of the hill.
The sisters stared.
Buses didn't appear in the village for a long time.
They started touching the bus like some big compassionate blue
horse, whom they harnessed to pull the cart.
A crowd of excited and happy children run out of the bus.
Then, three nuns and a hunched‐over driver came out.
The driver was ready to spit and swear but refrained.
We have to stop for a while, he said.
The sisters got mixed up with the other children.
They run away from their stepmother, her three children, and a
careless drunken father,
who after work, got drunk and was lying on the couch and snoring.
Suddenly, the bus started.
The sisters were sitting in the back seat of the old blue bus.
They traveled by bus for the first time.
Sister sat like the important guest and looked out the window
Hunger nested in their eyes.
Two lumpy, little green apples were rolling on the floor.
They rubbed them on their sleeves and bit them with small bites,
like some ladies.
Finally, they fell asleep, hugged and tired.
At dusk, through the window, they saw the river and the shepherd
driving the sheep.
Children entered through the large monastery gate.
They were carrying some small bundles.
The sisters had nothing in their hands.
At the door of the monastery inn was a wooden board with an
inscription.
Orphanage