Thanks to Lee Ann Ann Roripaugh for allowing me to marry her beautiful photo to a poem I wrote maybe 25-30 years ago. I have added the link to her work for you to enjoy!

LaGuardia

My first flight from LaGuardia

was in the dark,

fireflies of freezing rain

riding the arrows

of a tightly strung wind.

Baggage handlers’ rubber soles

skating

                    from         

                                      cart  

to                           

                 conveyor.

Waiting.

                   Waiting.

                                     Waiting.

Men ogling the asses

of flight attendants

and hinting for early drinks.

The lungs of babies singing

over the tinny words of the pilot.

Outside, waddling figures with hoses

swaddling us with a coating.

The guy next to me grunts

something about de-icing the plane.

I was comforted,

knowing as we lifted off

that we would be slipping

from our crystal cocoon,

leaving it to melt on the runway.