Karen Sylvia Rockwell

return flight

I saw them first reflected in your absent-minded benign image wings stroking your silver soft hair through glass as you stand in your pewter frame handing me the earth with a smile before you even knew me

and now without a sound a flash I turn to find you embodied on the wind a dozen or more strong you the leader and you again encouragement from behind

silence becomes a brief thunderous song returning me to you