Oops, plz ignore this above post. nt

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: : : ...by Richard Shindell : : : : : : TRANSIT : : : : : : The merge from the Turnpike was murder, but it's never a cinch : : : It was Friday at five and no one was giving an inch : : : They squeezed and they edged and they glared : : : Half of them clearly impaired : : : By rage or exhaustion - the rest were just touchy as hell. : : : Somewhere near Paterson everything slowed down to a crawl : : : The all-news station was thanking someone for the call : : : It's a van from St. Agnes' Choir : : : There's a nun out there changing a tire : : : By the time they got by her tempers were out of control : : : They all hit the gas in a dash for position : : : Bobbing and weaving, flashing their high-beams : : : Flipping the bird, screaming obscenities : : : A murderous horde, hell-bent on Saturday : : : And so they continued, westbound and into the sun : : : Law and decorum constraining nary a one : : : By then it was devil-may-care : : : Not one even vaguely aware : : : That they'd come all the way to the Delaware Water Gap : : : How had it happened? They had all missed their exits : : : How had it happened? Was it some kind of vortex : : : And in they all went, bumper to bumper : : : Faster and faster, no sign of a trooper : : : And in they all went like sheep to the slaughter : : : Bankers and carpenters, doctors and lawyers : : : And in they all went - families in minivans : : : Reagan republicans, weekend militiamen : : : They followed the river and rounded the bend : : : Between Minsi and Tammany and into their destiny : : : Lying in ambush right there before them : : : The angry old sun right on the horizon : : : Sister Maria tightened the bolts of the spare : : : She said a quick prayer and put the old van into gear : : : Thank God the traffic was light : : : If she hurried she might not be late : : : For that evening's performance : : : At the State Penitentiary : : : She entered the common room - there was her choir : : : Altos and baritones, basses and tenors : : : Car-thieves and crack-dealers, mobsters and murderers : : : Husbands and sons, fathers and brothers : : : And so it began, in glorious harmony : : : "Softly and Tenderly" - calling for you and me : : : With the interstate whining way off in the distance : : : And the sun going down : : : Through the bars of the prison : : : And they poured out their souls : : : They poured out their memories : : : They poured out their hopes for what's left of eternity : : : To Sister Maria, her soul like a prism : : : For the light of forgiveness on all of their faces : : : *** : : : ** : : : *

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