Hermesian Flying Lessons

What do I know
of cirrus and mist?
Where is my compass?

Do I have a chronometer?

Every season is an
insoluble piece
of an unsolvable rancor.

No compass, no clock
belong in
winged departure:

and wing can never
touch wing.

Remember the delicate
electrical silk
between the wings of
one plane and another.
It is often deadly.

Do I see wind as I fly
from front to front?

And hearing
some say the dead
return as wind
or opera.

Do I hear any dead
after their throats close?

I re-breathe their breath,
see white, know color,
hear sound
re-sound through
my fragile bones
that cannot rot
in the wind.

by Victoria Barnes

Victoria Barnes, Ph.D., teaches creative writing for Baker College. Her dissertation research at Pacifica Graduate Institute took her to Duino, Italy, to study the site where Rainer Maria Rilke heard the first lines of the Duino Elegies, borne upon the wind at Castello di Duino in the winter of 1911 -1912.