Bear Trap

They don't let the planes take off until
seven in the morning.

I sit in front of my house, facing east
through a fog that has just arrived.

I listen to the heavy spinning of turbines
as the planes ascend.

I have been on these flights before; I remember
what it was like to move through space at this hour.

People parade by me, a 737 at a time,
invisible beyond a grey haze.

I am awake now because I haven't slept, I waited
through the night for the planes to return.

Planes are flying, cars moving, people walking
all around me.

I know the world is out there, people are in it,
I just can't seem to get my feet to move.