In the observation car while the ocean and the sky
and the edge of the land with its rocks and trees
keep flowing behind her, she listens to three young hipsters
drinking wine and laughing and making jokes
about Jesus. Making fun of the Lord. When a flock
of pelicans catches up to the window, matching the speed
of the train, six brown pelicans seeming to hang
for a moment suspended in the air outside, in silhouette,
just a few feet away, with their improbable bills
and their great flapping wings, their ugly feet tucked up
in the feathers of their bellies, and everyone turns
to look and exclaim, in joy, everything is suspended, and she
thinks, O Lord, I love these three young men, O Lord
I love you, in whom we live and move and have our being.