Untitled

Written by Caroline Cassidy 

 Photograph by  Thomas Richter

Photograph by Thomas Richter

And Here.
In the hands of free floating
Anxiety.
Wrapped in sudden heat.
A blanket,
A don’t-touch-me-
My heart just might crack.

I fly above sparse clouds
On this overbooked plane.
Why is it that
Extra leg roomed passengers
Who agree to save us all if we go down
Have the driest sense of humor?

Is it because the thought of death is so distant
Or because it has always been so close?