A Closer Look: Watching You Land by Amy Bagwell

Watching You Land

I flew down

that frontage road shaking

singing Dolly Parton for luck (for you

who would be my son’s father) squinting

searching those crazymany stars for your plane wishing

willing one into blinking and beginning (but not quickly

god not quickly) to drift

to sink.  There

you were

descending.  I knew

that sky it has no sympathy

for our smallness swells despitebecauseof

our worshipterror of its unlimits its arsenal of indianfierce

deafening winds twinopposites of wildfire and burying

snow its immodesty I could see

everything and you

falling I


and drove

weeping (like only someone

in a poem can weep) until at last we

arrived on hotheavy wheels at that happysmall

hunting lodge of an airport in Bozeman and I held you

and you (until now) misunderstood my panicdrained

loveworried eyes and fingers my notsleeping later,

after.  You were in space darling

tumbling until I

got there.