caught by the bus but i caught you too

i was catching the bus well waiting for it to catch me a sitting duck and behind the scarlet and pink last rays of sunset i saw you again standing across the street. your silhouette i of course remember it is an impression rubbing or maybe blueprint-white sun print in my memory. you were even looking up at the sky again. keen as a trickster as buses do my very bus passed by but the opposite direction. and when the last of the bus passed you by you were gone. you passed me by but anything was anything at all. and when my bus cradled me and carried me back home i wondered if you would ever look at anything other than the sky.