New Work
A jet burns across the sunrise, takes a shortcut across the north,
heading to Hawaii, Puerto Vallarta, Bora Bora, or wherever people go,
its electrical wiring harness controlling futures just so.
Between my fingers the contrail is not much longer than the scar
a splash of molten slag left on the arm that supports me.
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Copyright 2014 The Winnipeg Review
A Poem by Brenda Schmidt
New Work
A Mining Town View of a Hot Holiday
A jet burns across the sunrise,
takes a shortcut across the north,
heading to Hawaii, Puerto Vallarta,
Bora Bora, or wherever people go,
its electrical wiring harness
controlling futures just so.
Between my fingers the contrail
is not much longer than the scar
a splash of molten slag left
on the arm that supports me.