You shoot across the blue sky like an arrow
with a shining point, oblivious to me,
yet I know we exist together in this plane.
You know only your cocktail, your thoughts,
the surface of the world.
I am familiar with the feeling of distance between us:
I’ve seen you before like this,
taking flight and vanishing.
All this evidence of your passage
makes me feel wanton,
as if I should hurl myself after you—
arms outstretched to bridge this great gulf
We get a lot of contrails in the sky overhead where we live. One day I was pedaling my stationary bike and watching a jet shoot across the sky, and I realized there were people up there with no idea I was down below, pedaling my bike. I turned it into a love poem because I like poems about conflicts between people.
After a couple of days of serious thought, I wanted to get into fantasy and silliness. I’m making up my Thanksgiving shopping list and smiling over the small gathering that will come to my home for the turkey dinner. I usually feel lonely at Thanksgiving since my sister-in-law died, she who was my partner in cooking. But this year I am stretching out my wings to fly ( pardon the bad turkey pun).
So happy days preceding the great day of Thanksgiving to you all, and next time you see a contrail, reach out your arms to embrace the poor oblivious people aboard, traveling to God knows where.
The photos are not by me but by Wickipedia and Vormedia.
1 day ago