Leaving One Country for Another
Afternoon sun
when the airplane rises
high over the Pacific
I'm folding myself
into paper gliders
kind of
antedating
not enough oxygen
one immediately wishes
for the quotable mask
wings
above a bare buoy
short long red
the land the waters' mingled luminosity
Narita my eye becomes a slit in snow light
custom's check none identifies the tears
near ice near nothing airport's first plum blossoms
Proceed to
Sunday January 11 , 1998.
