the left side

How different the world looks
Simply by sitting on the left side of the bus
Instead of your usual spot,
On the right
A symmetry of your everyday routine,
Lost in your love for reliability.
Of sitting in the same spot, every time.
The route is even unfamiliar now,
All these trees and roads and buildings
That you were on the other side of,
the whole half of the world you did not see
Unknown to you, and would have remained unknown
Had someone not taken your unassigned, assigned seat
On the bus today

And this is just small in terms of what you know it really means,
How we only see things one way
And never from the view of the
People across the street
And when we finally muster courage
To step across our boundary
that we set for ourselves,
We are uncoordinated, unfamiliar, uncomfortable,
And even lost
In all this, we learn
The grass is just as green from the other window,
And perhaps it is our view that is tainted
By sitting so long in one spot,
And never trying a different window.