Suddenly Life
Was Turning Out To Be,
More Than Just Mashed Potatoes and Gravy.
Leaving Denver’s
snow capped mountain peaks,
tearing, tugging at my heart.
A slick, sleek, silver jet streaks,
over Pac-man like farm fields,
flying towards Charleston, South Carolina.
May, Friday the thirteenth,
me, joking with my travel agent.
Saying, “as long I am not
on flight thirteen,
in the thirteenth seat.
Why yes, you certainly are
professional for only
your first week on your new job.”
Changing flights in Atlanta’s
soft computerized woman’s
voice saying, “Concourse B-
Use shuttle platform C.”
I deplane in Charleston,
walk out of the airport,
into the evening setting sun,
standing with by blue suitcases,
in Charleston, West Virginia.
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