Charles Harper Webb
The ticket settles on my desk: a paper tongue
pronouncing "Go away;" a flattened seed
from which a thousand-mile leap through the air can grow.
It's pure potential: a vacation-to-be
the way an apple is a pie-to-be,
a bullet is a death-to-be. Or is the future
pressed into it inalterably—woven between
the slick fibers like secret threads
from the U.S. Treasury? Is my flight number
already flashing as cameras grind and the newly-
bereaved moan? Or does it gleam under Arrivals,
digits turned innocuous as those that didn't
win the raffle for a new Ford truck?
If, somewhere, I'm en route now, am I
praying the winged ballpoint I'm strapped into
will write on Denver's runway, "Safe and Sound"?
Was my pocket picked in Burbank,
and I've just noticed at thirty thousand feet?
Am I smiling, watching the clouds' icefields
melt to smoky wisps, revealing lakes
like Chinese dragons embroidered in blue below?
Lifting my ticket, do I hold a bon voyage,
or boiling jet streams, roaring thunderstorms,
the plane bounced like a boat on cast iron seas,
then the lightning flash, the dizzy plunge,
perfectly aware (amid the shrieks and prayers)
that, live or die, I won't survive the fall?
Charles Harper Webb's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Reservations Confirmed by Charles Harper Webb )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- Silent tears are good., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- choice, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Thhe Common Man, Harshpreet Kaur Kathuria
- Never again, Leslie Guylee Cron
- The Poor Child, Akhtar Jawad
- Bills, Leslie Guylee Cron
- The Truth of You, Christina de Vries
- Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Richard Provencher
- Daddy Went to Germany, Raluca Neagu
- Family, Leslie Guylee Cron