imagining majestic scenes
and indigo horizons,
steeling himself, he walks
purposefully toward his first flight,
white-knuckled
grip on the leather handles
of his bags
before today, exotic meant
a drive-up in a neighboring state,
a girl whose seamed hose
looked almost as soft as her
bare legs, and dancing
to jazzy music, late at night,
in the parking lot
the symphonic prairie,
vast—glowing as it would in all
his coming years
of dreams—blooming beneath
the milky way, blowsy
and heavy with memories
as a late-autumn rose.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: EvgeniT/Pixabay
