A boyish lesbian, commuting west,
who dropped her phone and earbuds on the tracks,
did something that I never would have guessed:
she looked and leaped. I watched her denim back,
her short dark hair, her bend and turn around,
and then she tried to lever up again,
like rising from a pool. Two times she found
her jump too short, ignoring several men
who reached to aid her. Finally the guys
just went ahead and hoisted her to us.
That jumper wasn’t meeting any eyes –
she rushed away headdown avoiding fuss,
but someone on the platform hooted glee,
and all the rest of us cheered happily.