Out the Window of a 747
They mull and peck about the luggage carts
and one flicks his fingers on the other's
forearm to tease or to hurt or both.
One leans against the side of a plane
and the sun makes the whole world white.
The orange guides elongate their hands
like feathers and form tracers down the runway
until this loopy man-made flying machine is
drawn right toward them, a big bird
doing the seemingly inevitable--
coming back to earth.
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