XIII. Lake Austin, Lake Travis
**
It’s not too much to fly from.
It’s not too much to bid goodbye.
It’s not much more than airport stores
and one last sweat before the sky.
It’s nothing that you’ll miss while gone.
It’s not a thing to make one weep.
But still, there is the leaving:
The gravitation before sleep.
There’s something with the spanning land
reminding you how far we are.
If you are not from Texas,
there’s no home you can reach by car.
There’s something with the spanning land
reminding you there’s more than this.
It feels so broad from on the ground,
but from the air? It could be missed.
It’s not too much to fly from.
It’s not too much to bid goodbye.
But something, with the leaving,
pulls soft towards grief before the sky.
**
I like it