There's a man on the bus
in the front bench that never bares itself
for elderly or handicapped passengers
to use,
and his face crumples from the top
both angry
and beatific.

The big boat feet
below the forgiving synthetic pants
poise above the rubber grooves
of the aisle
on cleats of golf ghillies,
and the large soft bun of his right hand
encloses
a brand new Christian bible.

I guess
he's been golfing
with God.

by Sara, copyright 1999, all rights reserved