Guest poem sent in by David Grabill
(Poem #1961) Topography
After you flew across the country we got in bed, laid our bodies delicately together, like maps laid face to face, East to West, my San Francisco against your New York, your Fire Island against my Sonoma, my New Orleans deep in your Texas, your Idaho bright on my Great Lakes, my Kansas burning against your Kansas your Kansas burning against my Kansas, your Eastern Standard Time pressing into my Pacific Time, my Mountain Time beating against your Central Time, your sun rising swiftly from the right my sun rising swiftly from the left your moon rising slowly from the left my moon rising slowly from the right until all four bodies of the sky burn above us, sealing us together, all our cities twin cities, all our states united, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
(published in "The Gold ) Here's another poem on a flying theme that a friend gave me before I took a long flight a few years back. Sharon Olds is a master of transforming mundane airplane flights like this and common garden slugs [Poem #1003], into sensual feasts. This one's an outrageous mix of metaphors that kept me smiling for a thousand miles or more on that flight, and continues to enchant every time I reread it. David Grabill [Links] Biography: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharon_Olds