March 26, 2013

the cloud layer
 
On the climb out of Chicago, I am sharply aware of the vacation
I just left, an easy revelry born from an absence
of to-do’s. The plane rises through a cloud layer, then
we are above it, coasting on clear blue sky.
In the engine hum of altitude, I make a promise to myself: Be ruthless.
No more half-living. It is time to step, full-bodied,
into the center of the Colosseum. And for two full hours
I am aloft in a glorious and potent certainty, until another thick sheet meets our descent.
Outside the terminal, a rain is just beginning. It feels like a test.
The luggage strap digs into my shoulder blades as if to say, Don’t forget.