April 20

Poetry

When I first saw this cloud shape as I was walking this evening, I thought of a Boeing 747, the ultimate “jumbo jet,” an aircraft we seldom see anymore. As a young adult, I admired them as the princess of the sky, and even flew on a few.

As I continued my walk, the cloud began disintegrating. My last glimpse was of this:

A sense of melancholy overtook me, as my mind turned to September 11, 2001, “9/11.” I believe all of the aircraft involved in that terrorist attack were smaller ships, but nonetheless had a strong association. Perhaps this is because of our current situation, with the COVID-19 pandemic wreaking havoc on our lives, our well-being, and our economy.

Once again, I took an idea from my #CLMOOC friend Kim and created a poem with only single-syllable words. Hers was inspired by waterfall poetry, mine is just… mine.

I see
a shape
a plane
no
a cloud
I think of
large craft
men in suits
wives in heels
glam, safe
then
nine-one-one of two-oh-oh-one
crashed
stunned
pained
dazed
slow mend
now
two-oh-one-nine
germs
ill
spread
dead
fear
lone
no trust
sad