Seemed to Be

She seemed to be

Falling out of the skies …

But along the line

Of the horizon hills.

There was smoke.

There was none.

There was control.

There was none.

There was powerful noise:

Engine fighting gravity …

Then none.

The Same Place

Far from the flat bar,

Bridge rail holding me safe,

Indeed perhaps holding me together,

Above a long, flat,

Horizon-bound line;

Rippled reflections.

Stripes of boats,

Temporarily precious rainbows,

Grasp the present

With ugly ropes,

Untidy knots;

Beneath fleet corsair swallows.

River and I

Call the same place

Home.

11/8/2012