Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Final Issue 2018
We Rise
For Billy

Jenny Williamson

Up and up. There is no end; the altimeter
speaks only two truths.

Our craft is made out of slipstream
and fiberglass. We keep one eye

on the tilting horizon; the other
on the circling hawks. We are loose

in the cumulus; sure of our bearing
as southward migration. Silence fills the place

where the daylight cradles us. See how we rise
to find the blue above all sorrow; trace the spirals

up each convection stairway. See how high
our burdens raise us. We have no fear.

We know these roads
better than the gods do.

About Jenny Williamson

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