Traveling Companion
2 Minutes Read Time
when I board the plane my seatmate is already holding
a paperback book and I smile
relieved because on the airport shuttle
two young musicians had argued the whole way
about a certain Celtic tune was it Irish
or Scottish a matter of possession
a printed score in a Glasgow library
didn’t that prove it on the Scottish side and I wanted to say
that things begin long before anybody writes them down but I didn’t
I sulked and watched the mountains
and considered the oral tradition in the abstract
I like the oral tradition when my seatmate asks if Newark
is my final destination I say yes
she says not me I’m going all the way to Trenton
Newark and Trenton are sixty miles apart so I think
that’s taking final destination a bit literally
I’m not planning to spend the rest of my life
at Newark Liberty International she is white
in begonia-patterned leggings a finger
holding her place in the book as if
she intends to actually read it but all that traffic now
in Trenton she goes on
a shame about the shootings what kind of monster
her language worries me
but then she says her brother has just died so I say I’m sorry
and I am I feel sorrow at death
all the time now the way I was always supposed to
there are children in the picture
the woman’s going to claim custody a shame
she says again when the mother doesn’t do what you expect
I need to know what she expects
it matters for my understanding of the situation
we have the space my seatmate almost shrugs
so that’s my sad errand
if her book weren’t already closed she would close it
for punctuation to demonstrate a vast certainty
to which I cannot listen I try to not listen
as loudly as possible maybe my seatmate thinks I’m airsick
I’m personsick and then the plane dips twice
it almost lands then lifts again
and we both think but don’t say
that something has happened and I think
but don’t say that if we die here on this plane
our bones will touch in the water
Read more from Issue 19.1.
