Flying to My Father

The eagle gaze through the

Soft wax paper—

The vericose mountains and

Checkerboard farms beneath the

Cotton blanket—




A giant above the world,

Stepping silently over the

Puddle lakes and

Gravel hills.




Where is he?




I can only see distant blue dropping off

The edge of the earth.

I can only hear the hum of the engine,

Feel the emotion of descent.




I am so close.

I've reached to the sky and

Cannot find him.




He is just out of my touch.

I want to pull him down and tell him

I love him.




The eagle gaze through the

Wax paper and cotton

Is not enough to grab him.




To tell him I love him,




No matter what.

No matter what.