Sunday, January 3, 2016

Flying with John Denver

Soaring miles above me
A jet on its way to the Other.
The engine barks like a guard dog.
But the food tastes
surprisingly good.
And your passport
sits lightly in your pocket.
Welcome to the friendly skies.

All those early Monday mornings
Shared newspapers
on the 1 train.
Half-finished sodokus
beside horoscope half-truths.
You held my ink-stained hands.

We are hydrogen and oxygen.
We are love and rainbow cookies.
We are cloud trails
but we never knew it.

My heart is a John Denver.
Tell me that you’ll wait for me.

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