You were sitting on the weary leather seats of the city bus

clutching your handbag, with one leg over the other.

The cold metal bar rubbed against your back.

A normal bus ride after a long day at work.

As you admire the things out the window 

you saw the childs’ humorous games, whites and colors still separated

and the other cars driving alongside the bus, all passing by WHITES ONLY signs.

You peer over your shoulder to see a woman minding her business. 

She was visibly worn down and tired

as if she was just climbing from the bottom of a pit.  

She wore her hair up with a flower on the left

and slight round glasses, sitting on the tip of her nose.

Like a bird gently resting on a powerline. 

The bus had stopped, and the driver rose from his seat.

He walked back to the drained woman.

They began to argue, not sure about what

They get louder, the whole bus is watching now.

Is he asking her to give up her seat?

She is clearly tired, why?

Is it because of her skin color?

She should not have to move, that is absurd.

Do you say something? No.

You can’t, you must stay calm and quiet.

You ultimately decide to stay seated and silent.

No one else is, so why should you?

You glance over and see the bus driver’s name tag

The polished silver name tag 

glistened in the harsh light from the bus.

The tag read “James”.

James began to raise his voice progressively.

Seemingly aggravated from the refusal she was giving him.

His breathy hoarse voice rose over all other noises,

comfortably rising over the mountain of distractions.

You were hooked and invested now.

Captivating your attention,

you turn to look at the woman once more

nothing had changed.

She was serene and stubborn

still in the same seat as before.

You are now sitting on the hard plastic material of the city bus. 

You clutch your purse and mind your business.

The bumpy ride of the bus slowly going by. 

A normal bus ride like every other day. 

You begin to look out the window,

You see children of all colors giggling together.

You ride alongside the other cars with no discriminating signs in sight.

You peer over your shoulder and see all colors sitting together and anywhere. 

You start to remember that one day.

You will never forget,

December 1, 1955.

The day everything changed.

You remember the woman on the bus,

Rosa Parks.

You never knew what an impact on justice she would have.

The amount of change she would put in place. 

You no longer see discriminating signs because of her,

You no longer have to worry about where to sit because of her,

You no longer have different rights than others because of her. 

You now have justice because of Rosa Parks. 

And to Rosa Parks,

Justice leaned.

It knelt beneath its pride,

and listened to her voice.