>plane talk

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Somewhere in Brooklyn are these open windows and this one bend of fuschia petals. I wonder if the petals have dropped now that I am back home.

And somewhere in Ohio are the two cowboys who sat next to me on last week’s plane taking us from Montana to our Minneapolis connection. From there, they were headed out to see Rick’s barn. Middleseat-Wranglerjean-Man asked Windowseat-Levijean-Man how big did he suppose the airport was in South Bend. Windowman was surprised. After a bit he cleared his throat and said, I thought you’d want to know how big Rick’s barn is. That’s the only thing I know.

I confess to wanting to know how big Rick’s barn is. Now I’ll never know.

And flying back from Brooklyn via Charlotte to Denver the couple behind me fought. Both had aisle seats. Apparently she couldn’t trust him with the simple issue of renting a car once they landed. Apparently ever since he bought the wrong brand of cheese at the market last Christmas, she’s not let him make a decision. What’s it going to take, he asked in the sleepy-dark cabin of our plane, to prove I’m a worthy man?

This is something else I’ll never know.

And then came the final leg back home: Flying in from Costa Rica, the young couple seated next to me confided they had just relocated to my home town and were camping at the KOA until they had enough money to move into a house. Tomorrow he was off to work the oilfields near the North Dakota border and she would remain behind. They are trying to have a baby, they confided in the dark, but so far nothing they’ve done has worked.

Will they ever have a baby? This is something I may one day know because they’ve invited me to pitch my tent next to their camper once the rains subside. It will be easy to know which camper is theirs when I reach the campground. The 4-foot-tall, bamboo giraffe riding home on top of our three suitcases in the overhead bin will be playing sentry outside their trailer door.

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About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

5 responses to “>plane talk

  1. >Lovely, Sherry!I love the close especially, and your photo of Brooklyn! Chris

  2. >Lives come together on a plane for a short time and then separate forever. Think of the possibilities… the food for thought.Very good story.

  3. >It's easy to be a fly on a wall in the cabin of a plane isn't it? I usually tune out with the head phones and movies, but maybe next time I'll listen in on the details of lives…thanks

  4. >Rereading GREAT EXPECTATIONS after many decades. Mrs. Joe would have found her husband wanting in the cheese department, had he been given the chance. As a reminder to us all, witches good and less so could write "surrender" across the sky every day and we'd still forget. The barn must be quite something to warrant a visit. Your observations always pull me into a circle where I feel an extraordinary mind is at work.

  5. >Hi Sherry,Your observations remind me of Greyhound bus rides between my college town and my home town when I'd travel back and forth to visit my family. There were impressions of people I still remember, though I can't recall specific snippets of conversation.

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