dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: flight

Under feathers

Huddle all the dark,

Sharp things of the world.

 

The bird womb breeds

Beaked fury that scurries

On Swiss-army knives,

All blades bared.

 

Like sharp treasures

In pockets

Forgotten,

Their cries send needles

Through veins, trains

Whistle more subtly

Than the winged refrains

Of my flightless fear.

Advertisements

I’m a Red Riding Hood
in the breezy forest,
trusting that there are no
hidden teeth and claws
in the blanket in the cabin
with shiny windows and wings.

Like Jack climbed his beanstalk,
I too ascend,
trying not to wake
sleeping giants in the sky,
hoping for
treasured golden memories
and luggage devoid of stolen goods.

I’m Goldilocks
wandering into seats unfamiliar,
hoping airplane porridge
and a twelve hour flight
through the night
are just right
with the companionship of
bears who are more comfortable
sleeping in different beds
than they are with others
sleeping in their own.