Lady Lazarus

In the rush-hour bustle
of the metro, she held
a white bunny, gingerly
pressed against her chest,
its pink nose quivering
softly into her black
leather jacket. No one
seemed to notice or care,
her coy smile and the bunny's
blatant whiteness lost
in the post-work haze.

Imagine pulling
the security brake,
and yelling, along with the
clanging of the alarm,
and telling them all
(Lady Lazarus of
the Metro) to look,
just look, and they would see

a small huddled miracle,
a touch of magic
straight from the black hat,
visiting for a second,
gone at the next station.