Falling out of the world | poem

Falling out of the world

No matter how I touch this device in my hands
I will not connect to anyone or anything. A jet
flies overhead, wheels down as it prepares
to land. Passengers will disembark, lost and
confused so far from their bodies’ time. In the
distance a dark blue band of sea across a low spot
between hills promises something that I don’t
understand. I should have told her I was going,
but it’s so long ago now. This device can’t
recall her to me. It would have been better
had I told them I was on my way to visit,
but now I realize that they are not ready
for me and would not understand my call.
So, I stand on the balcony, its low railing
calling me—to jump out, so I do, forgetting
to fall as I read in a book would let me fly.
I float out into the breeze, slowly drifting down—
out through the gap in the horizon, over
that darker blue. The bruise on the skyline
welcomes me like a mattress does for a weary
old man way too tired to stand anymore.
I lay down on it, and watch the clouds
slide across blue fields of flax, the world
turned upside down, and no one to call
as I fall out of the world, dreaming of your arms.

Falling-out-world-WEB

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