Parked toylike on the airport runway there (where?)

a tiny airplane like a Cessna waits

On offer, goody bags and tours of the interior, for some reason

And, for some reason, I accept the offerings and board

Another woman, stranger, boards as well

We glance around a narrow, well-appointed purple cabin space

Then — doors slam shut! plane taxis off! starts speeding up

Tight-trapped we jump, shout, scream

wave wild at curvy windowpanes

Unheard, unheeded, captive there together all alone

Terrified, though taxiing itself is orderly enough, if fast

But why? why is all this happening? At whose behest?

Long time passes — feels very long, at least —

Then plane just stops, official type appears

No explanation! but doors now smoothly part, spread, open wide

and we're allowed to walk away, to leave

The other rattled woman is in no rush

once we've descended from the plane

needs time to sit, calm down, it seems

but not me, I must get back now, right now!

right back to . . . where I'd been

Official's offhand, unapologetic, very vague —

Just keep walking in a u shape 'til you get back there

That's all he says, implicit shrug in his flat voice

I hand the other, frightened woman something sweet,

small treat from goody bags we both received,

and quick set off

At last, I do arrive . . . somewhere

some place, not so familiar

Have I got back?

have I actually arrived?

But my dead love is there! right there

not dead! and roughly, wildly glad of my return

Glad in every living sense

His body boldly testifies and mine, amazed, at once responds

Lovemaking swift and sweetly strong ensues

And — suddenly — the bus has come!

What bus? don't know, but now

imperative! we have to run at once

He outstrips me with supple ease

and catches it, leaps up on board

My feet are naked

no time to even grab my shoes

And, strange for me, somehow now I can't run fast

sore-soled, stiff-shanked, can hardly run at all

But he has made the busman wait for me

seems so long just to get there, weirdly slow

finally I'm standing at the hissing sliding door

climbing up steep black-ridged steps

on awkward bruised bare feet

By then my love has disappeared

to far-back seat someplace inside the crowded bus

I scan to seek him out, soon spot him

struggle down through narrow over-populated aisle

to make my way toward where he is.

No space to sit together, though

I gain a spot a row in front of him

bench style, bus travelers teeming

crammed so very tightly in

There's even someone sitting on the floor before me

A pretty young boy, like thirteen? sweetfaced

dressed all in black, black skin black hair as well

He seems asleep, or resting, looks serene

is half-reclined on backpack pillow

head cradled on one open hand

eyes smoothly calmly softly shut

Quick I reach back

back toward my love

he reaches forward

takes my hand, holds it —

firm lovers' grip

In twisting backward

awkward balancing

within the busy throng

seems I have thrust my other hand out too

feel sudden vital warmth there, human touch

The young boy grips my other hand — I see

his eyes have opened

glow soft bright pretty green

He kisses my left wrist, showy movie move

bit mischievous, his smile as he looks up, but sweet

Keeps hold of my left hand,

his verdant eyes a little drowsy now

but still so present, so intense, like speech

in some hushed foreign tongue

Both my hands clasped

so strongly softly held

inside the crowded dirty bus . . .

then I wake up alone