Scanlon's poem uses a bus journey as a picture of seeing the world differently and then trying to explain it to someone else. The windowless bus suggests a view with nothing in the way: the windows shatter, and the speaker feels free to create. When the speaker bangs on the glass hoping to see through the driver's eyes, the driver turns and turns out to be the speaker. That moment reads as a kind of self-recognition, as if the person steering the experience has been them all along.
After that, the mood shifts from wonder to uncertainty. The windows come back, "half-hiding the world," and the speaker finds that ordinary words can't carry what they have seen. The ending is quietly warm. The companion describes seeing the same face in the driver, and the speaker realises that being alone with such vision is lonely. Sharing it brings relief, and the poem closes on a note of connection.