It shouldn’t worry me

this much,

leaning into the window,


and cold as it is.

We started

coming apart,

you and I,

months ago.

The plane falls

through the bottom

of watery clouds, rain

squeegees up

the double paned glass.

I only have a back

pack, only took

those few books,

a sweater,

fat new pencil

to line my eyes.

The waves jump

to meet the belly

of the plane.

I hug my chest.

It shouldn’t

worry me

this time

but it does,

landing over water.


(Published in River Pets Journal 2017 – Special Edition “Windows” Volume 11 Issue 1