The state of emergencies
  R L Raymond

From the window
with rounded corners
we look
          down
to see the sun
reflected
in field and forest floor
from pools
left behind
by the morning storm

These new-lain marshes
          occasionally
mirror the sky
          perfectly
in the windless-still
of ditch or furrow

***

As the plane descends
its shadow floats
          for a second
across the highway
still shine-slick
lined with cars
heading home
          to work
                    to a pub inside the city

***

The wheels touch
          down
and spit mist

Soon we’ll race
across the parking lot
skipping puddles
pulling our suitcases
          behind

Then we’ll try
to figure out
          exactly
                    where we
                                   are going

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