The boat that was not a boat

cruised on pavement –

carried its load of passengers down

into the deepest parking lot.

The boat was a slow-moving trolley

with seats along each side.

There were few sights –

just cars and more cars.

We rode at the pace of royalty.

As if we’d built a cathedral.

As if flying buttresses and a rose

window would loft from earth’s bowels.

Now and then the driver paused

and we fell silent, observing shadowed

and slightly shimmering Fords,

GMCs, Hondas, Saabs, Peugeots, Toyotas

in which we drove to work,

carried potting soil, ferried

dogs and children, stored reusable grocery bags

and flats of spring water, transported those much-desired

presents in their impenetrable packaging.