Without a Book

Here's another poem I found going through my e-mail, written by my favorite contemporary American poet:

Riding Metro without a book

by Faith Williams

a mistake of course, like
going naked. No
magic cape to make
me invisible, to save
me from the gray,
the noise, the shoves,
the sighs. No secret
spyglass to reveal
a subtler, deeper
world, where I glide
with distant grace.
No, I had to be there,
Easy Spirit grounded,
hip to fat hip, them
and me. To be amazed
at how well we cross
without strife, muslim,
jew, lout, boss, child,
and crone, be and let be.

I identify strongly with the opening sentiment, and also have sometimes marveled at the general paucity of bellicosity on the (in my case NYC) subway.