LEAP OF FAITH


The woman on the bus
yanks the line with
the intensity of her
life, it's comical, how she


hangs onto the line
draped atop the smoke-
tinted windows like some
abject garland, she


yells at the driver to
stop as we cross the bridge
that spans the valley,
we are suspended above


the abyss, she shouts STOP
THE BUS NOW PLEASE LORD
STOP THE FUCKING BUS in
a shrill monotone until


we pray for the driver
to give in and someone
shouts LET HER OFF FOR
CHRIST'S SAKE and the bus


jerks to a halt and we all
lurch forward as if bent
in violent prayer and
we all grab something to


brace ourselves, the woman
scrabbles off with her black
trash bags, the weight of
her life's belongings, her


ballast of her last will
and testament, she means
to take her life, and as
the accordion doors


seal shut with a hush an
ambulance screaming with
siren whips by in a mad
rescue, she means to fly


down into the valley of
death and abandoned
train tracks and brick smoke stacks
far below, so far we


cannot even imagine
what life down there is like,
we all smoosh our faces
against the undersea glass


and watch as she mount the
concrete wall and stumbles
on the edge, she spreads her
arms and she floats in the

desperate space, she flies
and falls and we stare
grim-faced and silent
before we return to


our seats and someone shouts
HALLELUJAH we all,
each of us in our small
voices whisper a prayer


for her lost soul, wherever
it may be, and for
ourselves as well,
and the bus moves on, a


blessing, a relief, we
are pilgrims seeking
redemption, a sign,
anything to live on.