Stopping over? TL;DR
In Gander, Nfld
Russell Crowe called out two friends
to meet him,
On Twitter so he thought of his
Over Frankfurt: reds circling into a
round mass of gold
And saw this centre as the palms of hands, pressed against glass,
Banging for his attention:
“Sunset over High Park,” that white
Christ fish diving from the sky,
something new, like excitement,
Filling his heart.
They didn’t show; no one did.
He took a picture of his face setting
sadly ahead of one set of footprints
Then in front of an ornamented tree,
sort of grizzly but child-eyed,
Before leaving again.
The flight attendant flirted briskly with him and he told her about the coffee
He had, that the sugar was the sunset, sinking in the golden cream,
And blinked hard because she walked away while he was still talking
Because his jokes
about male geese in courtship vectors
And what wonders he has seen were lost
Fathoms below a night-crawling sky.
The man beside him stretches and says, How was your trip?
He clutches his arm and says, No one came,
And cries horribly, one long, wail descending instantly into a cough,
I just stood there, he says, but the man is busy and typing something not
How houses and yards and fields look like huge warm cemeteries
From the sky,
How, from this sky, the moon appears shyly to tap on his little window:
She leaves a blur there he calls “The Moon’s Kiss,” saves face on Twitter,
And remembers to breathe: you must take it all in, then let go.