Big London Trip Day One: Leaving the States
Here I am on a giant two-decker plane, squashed at the end of a bank of four seats with my daughter asleep on my shoulder, my husband reading next…
It’s only in the car that we
Slow down enough to focus
On every tree that’s changing
Driving fast enough to notice
That the two of us are aging
Winging towards our destination
Though it’s not that kind of day
We’re heading to a baby shower
Then I’m going to play
A concert, where I’ll feel my power
Rise and fall and rise
There are too many stage
Fours for me to be surprised
Anymore. But I am.
Not you.
As we hunted for Bat Mitzvah gifts
My daughter caught this thread:
She overheard two women talking
Did you hear them? she said.
Did you know, when you die
You can choose an urn that’s full of seeds
And turn your body’s ashes
Into roses, shrubs and trees?
I am writing poetry this month as part of 30 Poems in November, a fundraiser for Center for New Americans. To support my efforts, you can go here. Any amount will be greatly appreciated!