9hr Time Difference

Counting backward, boarding the plane
3 AM Bombay rickshaw slum
planning my sleep, the Dramamine.

Imagine the B4 Heathrow transfer bus
flight attendants, vast clean airports,
first taste of raw food.

How quiet Brooklyn streets will be!
In white blanket of snow I'll come
back to America with warm blood.

A flight only stretches the inevitable
that won't change regardless how far I fly
how hot the summer was.

At the end of the long conveyor
after lightless shell of plane
first breath of American air

I'll do what should've happened today
return to departed arms, tear salt lips
old breath shared.

Counting backward from NYC arrival
to pull that day apart, make the flight
as though it never happened.