I used to walk
Up and down the naves of cathedrals.
I was looking for God.
I used to grope at my rosary,
And pace the stations of the cross.

Once I tithed a week's earnings-
Nine hours' of babysitting money,
Then sat in the pew and begged
For Christ to enter my heart.


Nothing happened at first.


Now I walk alongside freight trains
From where the forsythia
Blooms yellow in the spring
Down to the abandoned bridge
Where spray cans stolen from Tru-Value
Peek from the brush by the museum
Of teen graffitists

Sometimes my glance trails up,
And there is Penny,
On the Tracks.
All of eleven, she's chestnuts and cream.
Cold wind blows peaches over the reservoir
To rest in her cheeks.

But her balance is so good
She never even sways
Just keeps putting down one foot
Then another foot
Then another foot
Along the iron rail.

All I can do is look back,
And in doing so,
I stumble.

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