[lit-ideas] Thursday Poem
- From: "Lawrence Helm" <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Thu, 14 Sep 2006 09:38:23 -0700
NIGHT FLIGHTS
Coming in hugely
In a ponderously winged cylinder
Through gardens of white flowers
Planted in mush,
I began groping furiously
Toward awareness.
(In the in-flight movie,
The girl was torn
During the unfolding,
But when the handsome flier said 'good-bye,'
And she approached her husband, she cried
And still seemed torn.)
It requires precision
And yet allows for a certain
Uncertainty and thus
We went into a holding pattern
Over the London Bridge
Seeing it distantly again and again.
Falling out of a doze
My ears cleared to hear
The weather was nice and warm,
The breeze was fresh and cool,
And those who were going on
Should stay on board.
There was something
I must have dreamed
About a world of blue fields
And time immense enough
To walk in
And be content.
The lanes narrowed into one
And we stopped beside a sign
Which forbade stopping anytime,
Crept on through the moments
(The plane was airborne once again
Climbing to 30,000 feet.),
Crept beside the clipped fresh lawns,
Filled with uncertainty;
Now that we are home,
Can we take in hand
The oven door, the backyard broom,
The phone book with the names of all our friends?
(I dreamt hugely as a giant ape,
Hand over hand scaling
A precipice, but weight pulled me down
Until swinging back I am once again
In the dark cave with endless
Unknown creatures scurrying aside.
They all fear me, for who
Would dare my giant hairy hand,
But I feel unsettled
And look furtively from side to side
Testing the ground before I move,
Grunting a mild challenge,
Reaching out at last to touch
The soft arm of my sleeping wife
And hurtle the miles back into bed.)
My head aches (I've been away again).
I sigh (inwardly withdrawing my challenge)
Feeling the awkwardness of awakening.
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