 |
| {planes photo credit: J. Holst} |
Thrusts roar,
filling in the sky:
a scream and a rumble,
braided echoes, by
this flight.
Small girl sits,
stiller and still:
hushed and humble,
watching the sill
gather shadows.
Sounds fade;
high-end falls
away and all that's left
is a bumble-wake
and daylight.
When I read this poem, I think back to my childhood when I would lie in my backyard and stare up at the sky, watching the trails of condensation of the jets that flew by. I live near an airport and so planes fly by my house all the time, usually pretty high up. I would always imagine myself in those planes, off on an incredible adventure to Europe or New York. I think this poem speaks to the innocence and dreams of children. The girl watches the plane fly by until all that is left is a bumble-wake and daylight, as if she wakes up from a dream. I think this poem speaks to the wonders of technology that seem so far away and fantastic when we are kids. When we get older, we lose that sense of childlike wonder when we fly regularly, but I remember the first times I flew in airplanes. It was one of the most exciting experiences I had. I would look forward to flying home the whole vacation because of how exciting it is. Lying in the grass, I would look up at the sky and watch the trails of clouds that followed the airplanes. I never knew why they left strips of clouds but I would watch them anyway, disappear into nothingness. I felt humbled like the small girl as these powerful machines would zoom by, so high in the sky. The collage expresses these sentiments in how the airplanes fly through the dissected body, as if the planes impact and affect our very being. The dreams are part of us, just as much as the stomach or infracostal line.
ReplyDelete