We queue at the airport,
pretending to watch
a lunar eclipse.
We fear sharp objects.
Passengers hold boarding passes up,
flags in a moving crusade.
All windows are half-open,
but nobody looks out.
Heat seals glossy layers
of mist over my homeland.
We have outgrown the raincoat
tripping over someone’s thoughts
in the two-minute stop between stations.
At odd times, the planes take off.
Letters drop from above
on neighbouring gardens,
seeds growing tall in silent parks.
We remove luggage tags, barely notice
the music of a mid-air explosion.
Blades of grass stand ready to shoot.
© Maria Stadnicka 2020
‘Shooting Position’ is published in Somnia, out now at Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, UK.
‘Shooting Position’ was initially published in Meniscus, The Journal of Australasian Association of Writing Programmes, Canberra, Australia.