PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When we were kids my parents would pack up the cooler with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and take us for a picnic at the Breslau air port
We’d spend an entire afternoon just watching planes as they came and went
Load and unload
Landed and took off
We’d lie on the hard wood picnic table
Ignoring the splinters
Flat on our backs and watch the sky
Count sheep and make clouds into images of things we’d never even seen
We’d be happy
I’d be happy
The world was at wonder
It was the only time that I have ever felt like a child
There under the wide open sky
A kid’s crush on a childlike man
Thinking that everything that could EVER exist had to be there
Contained in the wind as it past us by
Maybe that’s why I do it
Run after heart ache
To Africa
To Alberta
To Ireland
Maybe that’s why I feel so at ease here
Why I never want to leave
Why I could sit with my music writing empty words onto meaningful pages
Watching them load and unload the planes all day
Because I am kid again
In the only happy place I’ve ever known