Saturday, December 31, 2011
Do not be alarmed as we approach some turbulence --
The stewardess, as she handed me the pillow, smiled.
I placed it behind all of your dreams, hearing a sigh.
My own [dreams] kept looking at you, as you slept on.
The shaking did not waken you. Neither the sudden
crying of a child. The past few days have been hectic.
Beyond, the beacon of the wingtip flashed against
the dark. Hair of your nodding head mingled in the sky.
And I wondered what this must look like from below.
Someone in a yacht, sipping chablis, hearing a rumble
looks up and sees a light. Knowing nothing about a
marriage on a sandy beach, a noon from this moment.
-- common with nighttime approaches to Montego Bay.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2011 --