Sonnet at 35,000 Feet

We are suspended here between two worlds,

Above the cloud-line, below the endless blue,

The map below in patchwork pattern furls,

And I find myself thinking only of you.

The man beside me sleeps, chin on his chest,

A child three rows back asks "Are we there yet?"

I've placed your photograph against my breast

And promised I won't let myself forget.

How strange that distance, measured now in miles,

Should make you feel so near — your coffee laugh,

The way you fold your worry into smiles,

The way you greet each day on your behalf.

The wheels descend, the runway rushes close.

I'm coming home. I love you, God knows.