Here is another one of Amy Dengler’s poems from her book, “Between Leap and Landing.”

Flight Patterns

By Amy Dengler

It took ten years

to replace take-offs and landings

crew camaraderie and the constancy of change.

I miss the bricked streets of Philadephia

New Orderans’ courtyards

turquoise hotel pools.

I used to know my way around

every low-lit wide-windowed terminal —

that misnamed gateway to anywhere.

What finally emerged

erasing not memory but aimlessness —

words

strings of them

like a skein of geese going somewhere

paragraphing companionably.

Words come like water

in a gush, or in dreams.

Some arrive in the slow and solitary hours

pen pushing a penguin to flight

praying for lift, thrust

a good tailwind.