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The Playwrights Forum > The Art & Craft of Writing > Poet's Corner : Critique my Poem > Flight

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 Posted: Thu Oct 23rd, 2014 06:44 am
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timmy
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Joined: Fri Jun 9th, 2006
Location: Oz, Minnesota USA
Posts: 1077
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I’m wondering about the woman
in the next seat, what she may think
if I showed her this poem;
after all, we are both in an airplane,
flying over southern Minnesota

me, off to see my oldest son
on Long Island; her, to an island
near Vancouver, one she will arrive
at on a ferry to spend fours days
staring at pelicans decompressing
from her job at Mayo Clinic

It is so beautiful to fly at night,
the tiny lights of the cities below
like twinkles of snow dust
one might see in far away places
like Prague or Krasnodar

as far away as the woman’s thoughts
are right now, her eyes closed, breath
easy; as far as my eyes can see
out of the little port window
of the airplane

farther than I can shout I Love You
in a foreign language; farther
than it is between the lines
of this poem no one will read

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