Flight Side


I have forgotten my name

Because it no longer seems important

Colour of hair, eyes, date of birth

Profession, blood group, what I’m worth

Incidents in another game.


Have I turned out of my pockets

Neatly into the crate

All I must leave? The alarm, I suppose, will tell.

Are memories too much weight?

But I can keep this thing

Undetectable to sight or smell

That someone else gave me to carry

Stuffed in my pocket while I wait

For the flight to take wing

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  1. Stirring and thought provoking….really nothing hangs on to us…

  2. Caddo Veil

     /  January 28, 2012

    I was going to say, “yes, I agree with Neel”–but I’m not sure. I think perhaps some things or people–like the love that won’t die…

    • I wasn’t sure of Neel’s precise meaning. Like poetry, it can mean different things. We all have to pass through the gate marked death, and what follows we don’t really know even if we have faith. Even if we’re sure we will live – how? That’s what I was trying to convey through lines like “Are memories too much weight”?


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