Poetry: Flight 664—PDX to CDG

Sep 17

I never actually slept, legs
folded like a screen over 19B and
C. my head on your lap
and your arm on me

like that time on the beach,
the two of us still
unfamiliar. I napped
and you took in perfection, one day.

it didn’t matter if I slept,
5 PM our time though dark over
the Arctic, and I too revved.
what mattered was to remember

forever those close moments,
the undulation of your belly
on my head, the two of us betrothed.

{Originally published in Panorama: The Journal of Travel, Place, and Nature, Issue 15}

Tricia Gates Brown

Tricia Gates Brown has worked as a professional editor and co-writer since the mid-2000s. Though the bulk of her current work is for the National Park Service and Native tribes, her expertise is broad. She has experience in academic and creative writing and strives to honor an author’s tone while improving a written piece. She holds a PhD from University of St. Andrews and edits everything from academic works to poetry, while her own essays, creative nonfiction, and poetry have appeared widely in journals. A 2022 Independent Publishers Award (IPPY) Bronze Medal was awarded to her novel Wren.

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