Upon waking in morning.

Upon waking in morning

In bed, almost not sleeping, I
Heard an airplane pass close
To my window, the engine vibrations
Felt loud and humming and dark.

Come closer, I cooed, break through!
Destroy all, I sang. I held still then,
Waiting and patient. My ears were sharp,
Strained for the tinkling of glass.

The hum became a bellow.
The plane was right there, just there
(If you are only going to pass, take me)
So close, I felt I could jump up to open
A window and touch the cold wingtip.

It passed, the mood and the aircraft, the
Noise droning in three-quarter tempo
to decrescendo, and for some time I
Felt and did not feel and did not do.

Afterwards I sewed stitches of lamentations, of
Low notes. Today would continue, today
Would fly into night. I would be in the night,
The plane gone.