Flying north at 26,000 feet one can see the slipstream of boats as if the ocean were sky. The afternoon sun's reflection races across the ocean, and the dark webbing of calm water weaves a net of waves, broken in concentric rooms by Santa Catalina Island.
A sudden reflection of light leaps the boundaries of the ocean to strike the land and finds arroyos flooded by rain, silver threads of rivers, swimming pools, lagoons, and it makes a grid of light and shadow. Even the cars and windows join in.
The captain of the airplane announces that the space shuttle just passed directly over us.
We enter a cloudbank a weather front...
A sundog of light
like a satellite follows us
the sun's reflection refracts
making a small silver patch of light
against the dull gray clouds
following us like a small satellite
We return home, keeping well to the edge of this continent. We are shaking granite sand from the last mountain and the last beach of where California disappears into the sea for the last time. We feel as if we are weightless, as if gravity also left the ends of the earth, and the sea continues to cradle us. After so long at sea, we must learn how to walk again.
Date I don't know it's after December 5, 1985
AT 26,000 FEET
Flying at 26,000 feet
80 miles to the right of us
the space shuttle passes overhead
as the reflection of the sun
races across the ocean,
a silver needle making a grid of light
across swimming pools and cars
As we enter a cloudbank
a sundog of light follows us.
The sun's reflection refracts
making small silver patches of light
against the dull gray clouds
following us like a small satellite.
12/5/1985
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