Adjacent Moments

Every day he sits behind
The same young man, alighting two.
You wonder if they'll ever find
a commonality askew

from what he must find normal,
or they would be side-by-side.
Instead they both seem sort-of-formal
Unless you see them share outside.

Then, their silence is more at ease;
They do not share a secret glance -
Perhaps proximity is adequate, please
and tease; their silent dance.

Again, alighting the fifty-three bus,
Again they shared two separate seats,
Again, their lives like zombies thrust
Apart, again, and then retreat.