(no subject)
The assignment/topic/focus was details...
Flight
A young woman’s ringless left hand
persuades her boyfriend’s black leather
carryon toward an opening in the crowd
below the scrolling departure T.V. screens.
“Three weeks isn’t so long, right?”
she asks him. He nods absently,
checking and rechecking his flight time
and gate. A family of four brushes past her,
father-first, and she watches them disappear
over her shoulder into the rivers of other families.
“I need to be going.” He says, “Security is hell
these days.” “Sure,” she says, “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.” he echoes as he dives
into the packed lines of other passengers.
From an empty observation room she leans
her quiet shoulder against the wide, glass windows
and follows the smooth taxi of his plane to the end
of the runway. Then she shuts her eyes tight
for fear that her staring might interfere
with the magic of aviation.
As the fiery roar of the engines tears through
the air and rattles the windows, she fancies
the soft, brown curls of his hair
being blown back by the force of takeoff.
It takes her a minute, once she reaches his car,
to coax the drivers seat up forward enough
that she might reach the pedals. By the time
she is on the highway, he has already sunk
down into the reclined back of his seat,
closed his eyes and fallen asleep.
Flight
A young woman’s ringless left hand
persuades her boyfriend’s black leather
carryon toward an opening in the crowd
below the scrolling departure T.V. screens.
“Three weeks isn’t so long, right?”
she asks him. He nods absently,
checking and rechecking his flight time
and gate. A family of four brushes past her,
father-first, and she watches them disappear
over her shoulder into the rivers of other families.
“I need to be going.” He says, “Security is hell
these days.” “Sure,” she says, “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.” he echoes as he dives
into the packed lines of other passengers.
From an empty observation room she leans
her quiet shoulder against the wide, glass windows
and follows the smooth taxi of his plane to the end
of the runway. Then she shuts her eyes tight
for fear that her staring might interfere
with the magic of aviation.
As the fiery roar of the engines tears through
the air and rattles the windows, she fancies
the soft, brown curls of his hair
being blown back by the force of takeoff.
It takes her a minute, once she reaches his car,
to coax the drivers seat up forward enough
that she might reach the pedals. By the time
she is on the highway, he has already sunk
down into the reclined back of his seat,
closed his eyes and fallen asleep.