Long Haul (Poetry)

His mind was a plane circling —
coming in and out of the clouds
uncertain where to land.
I would listen to the drone
of his voice fade to a low rumble
almost lost
then, gaining power, turn
and speak to me —
pilot to tower —
ask me things about the long-ago
as though he saw a different landscape —
another city rolling far below
those building clear — no mist
along the welcome runway.

There were times I tried to talk him down
unsure if he heard anything I said —
there were long pauses in our dialogue —
I watched his face
for changes — subtle clues
to jog my memory —
his map drawn long before my time
folded with the blood ties of our history.

I’d play my part and be the one
he needed to see —
all smiles and guessing
in the awkward hush that followed
a strange name...
before he’d nod and smile — confirm
the touchdown had been smooth —
a moment’s grateful stopover before
I’d sense him slip away — soar off again—
his thoughts crossing time zones
on a flight path of his own.