Amish Taxi, a haibun by Andrew Grossman

Red brick church hides the choir. The taxi driver knows they are singing. She is there to take them home. Their Scriptures make no room for her- a gay woman with a Jamaican partner-but they’ll let her drive them in her 15 seat van, their bodies in the seats, going where they must go, their cash under the table. Farmers in straw hats and suspenders, threshing wheat and raking hay. The corn is already four feet high. A wet summer. 

Amish are outside her life, but sit beside her. They talk about shortcuts. She gets paid for every mile she drives them, $1.10 per. An Amish woman will have another baby next week. The taxi will take the extended family to visit. Amish women have babies until they pass the age of fertility. The taxi driver rides with her snickerdoodle on her lap. 

   noon siren 

   crows and seagulls fly up 

   from their lines