via

Last Monday evening
on a platform in Brooklyn,
I waited for the train to
bring me home to Queens.
I looked up for airplanes,
for the lines they
make in the sky.
Sometimes.

Two birds flew…
towards the direction
I would have flown

if

I had wings. Dark feathers
flap against clear blue
skies. I watched.  One
behind the other, always.

And to the side
sometimes, directly behind sometimes, a little closer
sometimes, a little further sometimes.
And never next to each other.

They left
no mark in the sky.

—
Jane