print previewback PAUL GUEST
Poem at Altitude
Whatever you take with you into ascent,
whatever you bring with your body
into the half air, the world above this one,
whatever you carry, whatever is
the design of your needs, take these
words which weigh nothing.
Can’t be forbidden, won’t be
detected, confiscated, stripped
from you in the naked light
of security, which in the end is a lie.
Whatever is left behind, missed
when it’s too late, in motion,
going and gone and up and away,
whatever you shed with speed,
keep with you this knotted
up bundle, made of air, these words
which fall out of the world
like the sun. 