An acquaintance made above the clouds.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
Photo by William Bayreuther
“We are like two birds…”
Now I was stunned,
I will admit,
that there are no
misunderstood lyrics
feelings shared between us two.
We are like two birds,
two passengers on a plane,
one goes happily to some resort
and other sits in mourning,
gotta pick up the body
tomorrow
by eight in the morning.
Yet on this flight,
we are in the zone
as if alone, but still together,
fighting over the armrest,
passing food with
claustrophobic awkwardness and
occasional heroic
hallway aerobics.
One will share his sorrow,
reminded by the plate,
microwaved, too hot,
they say it’s top-rate,
but we all know
that‘s up to debate.
The other one
will fill a cup of joy,
the one he smuggled in his garments,
to escape the gloom of waiting.
We might never meet again,
that’s fine by me, we both know
that it was just a moment sharing stories,
sight aligned through see-through glass,
gliding on the clouds, not wanting to go down,
at least for now,
Adios amigo,
Brat.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
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