Alan Berecka

Alan Berecka

Silver Anniversary Flight

                     for Alice

Buckled into this night’s last flight

from Corpus, we buck arctic air

pushing south. Light from scattered

towns rises, filling opaque clouds.

White wisps recall drifting snow

writhing across iced macadam.

The moon rises—space heater-

orange glows on false horizon.

The front passed, the ascendant moon

looks through a veil of trailing clouds.

The night air calms, clears, reveals

stars mirrored below. The Metroplex

nears. The final descent begins.