Every time is like the first time
The alarm and utter vulnerability of being suspended in the
sky
The physical impossibility of all this weight floating
amongst clouds
The crippling terror with each turbulent shake and bump
And then arriving home - if there is such a place
The strange, ludicrous idea of time, regaining hours already
spent!
Coming back to the familiar place where you live. So
personal -
where you choose to store your ironing board, how you fill
empty coffee jars with salted cashews and caramel almonds
Your body adjusts quickly, forgets quickly the alien
encounter,
comes back to earth, to the narrowness of all that is real.
