published in Volume 5, Issue 3 on September 1st, 1998When I was young, I'd stay awake
The night before we were to fly.
I studied maps with a penlight,
Plotting the likely route we'd taken,
Charting the details of our flight.
But when the plane had cleared the ground,
I'd drowse until the journey's end.
I never cared for what occurred
Beyond imagination's bounds:
My dreams expired just when they stirred.
So now I never fly at all;
I know too well how the land lies.
Instead, I hunker in my dreams
And learn where dusk becomes nightfall
And blur the sense of "is" and "seems."