My family and I are leaving for vacation, so this is my last day in the office for a week and a half. In honor of our trip, this week's Poetry Friday poem is a beautiful glimpse by Rita Dove of the no-man's-land an airport is as you wait for takeoff. (I just hope the "baby's exhausted mother" doesn't turn out to be me.)
Vacation
I love the hour before takeoff,
that stretch of no time, no home
but the gray vinyl seats linked like
unfolding paper dolls. ...
Read the rest of the poem
here.
This week's
Poetry Friday is hosted at
Crossover (which, parenthetically, I--as a 28-year-old rabid fan of MG/YA literature--urge you to peruse further).
See you in a while--
Beth