Words of Min(e)d


The cost of Flight

If the cost of flight is landing*,
I reckon the price we pay for loving other
two-leggeds is heartbreak.
It's the law of gravity really.
What goes up must come down.
And the inevitable fall is worth it.
It means a climb was had.

A jet plane rises from one spot,
cruises for a time,
then lands in another spot.
It switches states and time zones
and seasonal patterns and landscape;
attire, accent, flavors, and radio frequencies.

It's the same with love.

He was right.
The cost of flight is landing.
What wasn't implied
is that it's worth it to fly,
every time.

*from a line of poetry by Jim Harrison

- penned on September 16th, 2019

Slow roll

Summer slow rolls into fall
and my activities shift in tow.
This is when I start pre-mourning
the upcoming and inevitable loss
of Crow Rider, my two-wheeled steed.

This is when I revel in the
return of darkness in the early
hour that I wake.

This is when I start slinging my
pen a little more.

This is when I simultaneously enjoy
slipping on articles of clothing
I’ve been estranged from since June
and clutch hard my summer threads,
reluctant to transition.

This is when I move my morning perch
in the house -
where I drink my tea and read and write -
in the tender moments
before daybreak.

This is when I start to feel
the approaching breath of what
constitutes our longest season,
which for many is a heartbreak
they opt not to endure.

- penned on September 11th, 2019