Leaving behind the last heat of the year
at 30,500 feet above the earth
I’ve been chasing sundown
every human part of me
feeling the grit
of grains of sand under my nails
from last night’s cleaning
of tear-sized seashells
that I picked for her
one escaped
and I carry it with me now

I think of how she passes through me
our hands in air were
always just missing
always just almost

Riding the air
in the plane slicing the clouds
steely nosed and winged,
I watch the ocean
and hold
my one hollow seashell
wondering what kind of love I’ve earned.