Poem for the Airplane Window Gazers


I have been trying to discover some of the blogs on The Guardian, one of my favorite newspapers. They have a ¨Books Blog¨ apparently runs a ¨poem of the week¨segment. Today´s choice is wonderful for those of us who try to get inspired inside air cabins trying to juxtapose the serene beautiful outside the window (gazing at the landmasses below, the seldem top-down views of cloud formations) with the banal (plastic-wrapped silverware and bathroom queues). Cheers.

"Descent" by Frances Williams

The wing can hold the curve of the earth
Tucked like a pillow under its hard arm.

Australia is passing me her endless
Biscuit prairie, patch scrub trimming off

To curly beach. Peninsulas are sharp
As holly. And then a rash of salt lakes,

A strange pox, turquoise then urine.
At such altitudes, reassurance arrives

In the small white intimacy of plastic
Meals. My cheese cracker is bigger

Than Kangaroo Island. I measure the gap
Between hand and mouth as Melbourne

Fades to Adelaide. Between safety and
Danger, a continent surrenders its widest

Plan. Its dust is the colour of strong char.
Lower, and roads criss cross in grids, run

Straight and true, hold too fast to purpose,
Are thin experiments in meaning. Out through

The bushy tail of history, my travels blow
Sky high. Wherever you go, you're only

Ever you, my mother warned me. But
There again, perhaps she had an interest

In the retardation of the coming new.
The chord at my tail frays in wispy spray,

Slowly dissolves in the long white sun
Which laces the window with its ice.

At Perth the runway beckons as the future
Swiftly rises from the past. Local time

Greets me with a roar, my head held tight
In the playful bite of the world as carnivore.

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