Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Tuesday Poem: A wing and a prayer

The fundamentalists boarded the flight
bearing crosses. Grim-faced, grey-haired women
scarved, not one low decolletage in sight
eyes averted, deferring to their men
the way old handmaidens do. The men got
through security somehow, clay tablets
taped to their chests, bags full of brimstone pots
stones for casting clicking in their pockets.
Silently, on drop-down video screens
Goldenhorse’s female lead was singing.
The clip zoomed in to pink lip-glossed lips, green
long-lashed eyes shadowed black, hair flaming.
I prayed they’d not ask God to smite her down
after our plane unshackled from the ground.

Happy 2012 to all and may your year overflow with poems.

I wrote this sonnet a few years ago after a plane trip. Probably no further explanation is needed. Visit Tuesday Poem for more poems this week.

1 comment:

  1. I laughed out loud - there's something so uncomfortable about flying isn't there?


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