The Holding Pattern

After a long day of waiting
on standby in San Antonio,
I win a window seat. I sit.
The aluminum cradle rocks
as baggage is hefted
and temporarily dropped. More delays,
sings the pilot in the speakers.
Thunderstorms over Atlanta.

Eventually we leave.
The heatsticky clouds
are black potholes in the air.
Gold lightning laces dark earth
to dark sky. My world
turns sideways.

Gravity, you greedy girl,
give me a few more minutes.
I will be yours again
before this storm
is over.

photograph by Marko Tarvainen

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