'Watching the buses' by Cherry Orchards

I remember being five years old and standing with my father, watching old buses and lorries at an event. I felt better with the buses because they were circling on the ground like vultures do in the air, tight circles within their own roped off area. But the lorries swung round the corner in lurid areas, their flexible tail threatening to whip round like a willow twig dipped in capsicum. Circling like hunched rhinos, hard armoured rhinos, but more hunched and more moody with intent.