Snow against the waiting bulkhead
Migration
A little fog, a little snow
a little icy rain
has grounded all the iron birds
till weather clears again.
A mighty fall of passengers
now fills the airport lounge
an unexpected stopover
to water and to scrounge.
Their tickets said it was nonstop
but leading lines of weather
interrupt diurnal flight—
at least they are together.
They hope the flyway opens soon
to the next staging post
till then they text and read and roost
while dreaming of that coast.
- Violet Nesdoly
**************
A couple of flights over the last while have proved to me again how weather-dependent flying still is. Last week we were delayed hours by a little fog, and it will only get worse as fall and winter’s grip tighten. Bon vol!
This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Irene Latham at Live Your Poem… (Irene has just published a new novel – Don’t Feed the Boy! - Congratulations Irene!!)
Nice, Violet! Great rhythm, while at the same time maintaining the relaxed imagery.
Thank you Matt! I’m sure the scene in an airport post-delay of many hours to days
might not stay so relaxed. Fortunately I’ve never had endure such a thing.
Lovely poem, Violet! I like the mood you created- the quiet resignation of the passengers- rather than their tense impatience. Love the rhythm too!
Thank you Iza. Yes, that is the feeling I get in airport lounges–delay or not: quiet resignation.
I like the use of bird words in your poem, Violet. I wonder how it would be to have a stopover with a flock because of weather?
Thanks Linda. Actually before I wrote this, I found a piece online that cited and defined words associated with bird migration, and challenged myself to see how many I could use with some degree of accuracy. Extended metaphor poems are fun to write!
Yes, I agree with Iza about the sense of resignation, and I love the juxtaposition of birds and passengers as ideas and imagery. Let’s hope it’s not a bad winter…
We just finished our read aloud — Kate Messner’s CAPTURE THE FLAG, a mystery that is solved when flights from DC to Vermont are grounded because of a blizzard. And our poem of the week in the PFA was a legend about how geese became the chiefs of the birds, leading the migration with their arrow point in the sky. Now your poem brings both together!
Thank you Marjorie and Mary Lee!
What a fun coincidence, Mary. I love it when things I read dovetail like that!
I especially love the first stanza.
Thank you so much, Liz! The words of the first stanza ringing in my head were what got this piece underway for me.