A hundred different hearts
sealed inside this train car of Giants fans.
A hundred different hearts
sealed inside their bony cages.
The tidy husband and wife
so carefully agedWearing the most expensive team jackets--
matching ones.
Their bag of blankets,
Their healthy boxed lunch
sandwiched between them--The orange and black tote
both linking and separating.
His heart latched onto the grid of his paper.Her heart wafting over a text.
Across the aisle
A big glittery woman
talks overloud smack
into her phone.
She clicks plastic nails
each embossed with a tiny SF
against its leopardskin skin.
And just behind her a man slumps,
Eyes closed, jaw loose
and resting on Posey's numbers.
And over there is a weekend dad,
his eyes drink in the boy beside him.
He fingers a spanking new mitt
like a regret his heart reworks.
His son presses up against the window
His little heart raw and open
to the dizzy fizzy bliss
whizzing before him
A blur of then to when.
And leaning up against the door
and Angry Young Man
Admires his dangerous looks in the glass
And drums his hard fingers
to the woosh and roar
of his own fierce pulse.
Across from him
An old woman wide and smiley as a Buddha
Her crumpled hat
studded with souvenir pins.
Her wide feet sporting
bright orange sneakers.
She hums and knits a tiny bootie.
Two hours, 36 minutes, and 20 seconds
from this exact moment,
Each of these disparate hearts
will leap in unison.
Each will lock like a laseron a tiny white ball.
Each will crescendo with its arc
then burst with joy
like a firework.
Each of those disparate hearts
will become one single heart.
And they will know Zion.
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