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Short Runway Landings
by Ken HarnischSomebody unclasp the love
Which snarled, leads her to
Fight and twist every which way
As if it were a muzzle
Someone clamped upon her soul
She will not suffer empathy
So mine are not the hands
She needs to become
Liberated. Yours are colder
And more refined.
You have practiced
Short runway landings
Now so they are an art
Land, refuel, and take off
And don’t look back in the fog
Chances are, she will love you
Long after you’ve forgotten her
And that, too, has its rewards
Once she has watched the skies
And cried, she never will again
Yours are the charming eyes
That are fawned over in
Youthful dreams. Mine
Are the ones where comfort
Is sought after the rain.
I am a patient man
One who knows
The longer flight
Is worth the price of the storm
And she is worth the turbulence.
08/20/2009 Author's Note: Dedicted to R.C. and M. P., two "pilots" from my way back when who wrote the definition of superficial charm
Posted on 08/20/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 08/24/09 at 10:03 PM Yet people have a tendency to romanticize the short runway landings, the ones that got away, left in the clouds...the strong and steady can so oft fade into the background. It can be a very under appreciated role to be reliable but sometime it can be golden. smh Love the title and the metaphor and as always enjoy your tag lines. smh |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/27/09 at 02:29 AM That last stanza defines you and your future - she will be a lucky gal. |
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