American Airlines DFW > DTW

In the seat in front

of me, a woman slides up the shade. Distortion

at the curve

of the windowpane stretches static figures below, egrets each a circle

Styrofoam bead on the water, some banded together in a huddle & others

off alone –pearls unstrung from the oyster’s throat. I want to stay –

curl in the warp of the windowpane. Red wasps (from where?) flick at the window tap tap tap, the sun rises, it pours through languid –I hear humming, high, lonely pitch, filtered sunbeams in the curves

like fingers reaching through a steel grate. It is tempting to touch the edges of this woman’s

window, reach over uninvited, run my fingers quick as a whisper over the textures

at the lip of the windowpane.