Each week, I’ll be asking a poet to nominate one of their own pieces and to tell me a little about it – how it came to be written and what it means to them.
On Love and Aviation
And so as we take off,
the cheerful man in the seat next to me
with his giant RAF watch
with gold wings for hands
and his crowned winged badge in his lapel
and his blazer with brass buttons
asks me if I understand the principles of flight.
He takes out his pen
and draws me a diagram on his paper,
explaining in a friendly voice about wing shape,
drag and lift and airflow.
It is all a question of balance.
It is the same impossibility with love.
Later, I point out the light auras on the propellers,
how they look like cartoon drawings.
Ah yes, he says,
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