Monday, August 3, 2009

Dozing on the floor of Dulles, CNN
& muzak inroading dreams, plus
flourescents & graveyard cleaning staff.

Close eyes tight & fish earplugs
out of jam-packed carry-ons,
diffuse sound to something far.

Charleston airport closed, fly off
to barren sheep-shorn hills, ago
two centuries, where, beside a loch,

pipes drone in sweet dissonance to
a plaintive voice weaving harmonies
with breezes, hot flashes & AC chill.

3 comments:

Carol Peters said...

lovely

Dale said...

Ai, that's the airport at night, all right.

Dale said...

Ahem. (tap tap). Is this thing on?

Kit, if you're not going to keep up your blog, you've got to tell me some other way I can find your writing :-)