Business Trip

Somewhere at thirty thousand feet

My husband sits secure

In his reclining chair

And in my love.

 

I think how little holds him there.

 

So long as forward motion

Pulls him across the wind

He flies.

 

Having studied it once

He knows how it works,

He trusts the machinery.

 

But in our life together what pulls him?

What is there to study except me?

And when has he done that?

 

Something keeps our love up there

Without apparent support

But the ground crew is tired.