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.