Sunset Journey

A poem

Photo by Jason Blackeye on Unsplash

Yellow globe straight ahead
As I climbed into my car

Orange ball less defined
As I rounded the bay

Glitter thrown on the water
By the sun’s dying rays

Falling sun in such splendor
Moments of glory that fade

Published in The Lark


Ontario, CA to Washington D.C.

An unforgettable journey

Photo by Kevin Bosc on Unsplash

One January while I was living in Southern California, I had the opportunity to take a break in Virginia with my best friend’s Mom and visit a facility linked with the one for which I worked.

It was a sunny morning with clouds as I was dropped at Ontario airport. By the time we boarded the plane, the sun had vanished, and a grey fog descended around the plane only. I promise you it was nowhere else. I know for a fact the I10 was clear and traffic flowing well.

After an hour the captain announced that we were fog bound until clearance was given. No one could disembark as it might be very soon.

I have learned that in flying language, very soon is a synonym for ten minutes to ten days. It’s a platitude designed to cause riots. I got my book out and began to read.

On finishing my book, three hours had passed. I could hear murmurs of grumbling as well as requests for drinks. I realized drinks were not on offer. I took out my water bottle and took a sip.

The murmurs of grumbling turned to rallying for revolution. It was unsettling. I realized five hours had passed and my second book was nearly finished. What would I read on the flight, if there was one?

After eight hours we were told we had half an hour to go into the terminal to make phone calls and use the facilities. I decided to wait to make my call as the phones were in use. All ten of them. Some men had their brick size ‘cell phones’ in use.

We were hearded back onto the plane. It was getting dusk and the last of the sunset was strikingly beautiful. Fog? Where was it?

We took off at last and flew into daylight for a few hours. I saw crop circles, rivers, craters, lakes, and mountains, before night covered the whole USA.

Then I noticed the White House, all lit up like a target for a malicious flier. I looked forward to the descent. But there was none. We banked, and I watched the White House as we circled it.

We circled and circled that illuminated target and I worried that the captain had criminal intentions. I beckoned a flight attendant and asked what was going on. She leaned in close and whispered that we were in a line to land but would be soon due to a lack of fuel. I was asked not to mention this.

My confidence was not restored. We had circled seventeen times already. How many minutes before we dropped out of the sky?

However, we did land, and I was met by my friend who had left home before getting the message I had asked to be passed on.

So much for flights and phones.


Feeling achey…

Full moon at an observatory in Australia. Photo credit unknown.

Yesterday I had an appointment in Bournemouth, which is not very far away. I took the bus, and I returned by bus. I always leave my home by my back door, which has now become a terrible ordeal for me. My neighbours on that side seem to be very unpleasant people. They have trespassed in my garden, shouted at me that they rent the land behind their rear gates. They hung windchimes, which are as close to my kitchen window as mine. I can hear these windchimes all over my house apart from my bedroom. I thank God that my study is in my bedroom.

These windchimes are a very high pitch, and they cause me indescribable pain. I have acute hearing, rarely go the cinema, and avoid certain music. There are sounds which leave me curled up in pain. And my neighbours windchimes leave me exhausted from nerve pain, and they refuse to take them down,

So after my appointment in Bournemouth, I met up with a slam poet. I thought she would be around thirty or more, and when she arrived she looked about 25 but turned out to be 18. We chatted, she had looked up some of my published poetry and articles. She was impressed. I asked her to read some hers, and it was good. She won’t come to poetry evenings because they are in places that serve alcohol. She chooses to wear a hijab, which I respect, but I asked her why she made this choice. She told me why and I thought we had a discussion of equals, and she certainly gave no indication of being upset. Later on, in the evening, I answered a phone call I thought was from her. It was the girl’s mother attacking me for – well I don’t know what really. When the mother took a breath, I told her she had no business with me, but only her daughter had. I ended the call, and felt very upset. First that the girl had been upset (II still don’t know.), but mainly because she had gone behind my back. She had talked about a private conversation and permitted her mother to use her phone in order to make me think I knew the caller. I was devastated.

First, I am not in the habit of trying to upset other people. Second, this girl seeks to be treated like an adult, which she is, but then goes home and apparently behaves like a child. Then she allowed her mother to deceive me. If this young woman had at all indicated that she was uncomfortable with our conversation I would have stopped immediately and asked her forgiveness. I cannot bear to hurt or offend others.

So I feel achey today. My editing suite is not happy with ‘achey‘ but offers no solutions. My head and body ache from the very tiring journey home in stop start traffic jams, combined with the sound of the windchimes.

Tell me, how is your day going?

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