POEM FOR KAELI ON CROSSING THE PACIFIC
12-07-06
You called early after you had taken the taxi to the foggy airport
Reporting that you'd paid the driver an extra twenty by mistake, his lucky day.
I noted that it was better to fly in fog. The air is still. Not to worry about the money.
Trekking to the International Terminal in SFO you told me you were anxious still
About deplaning in Narita and finding your way. I said you were levelheaded
And there would be signs in English everywhere. We ended our conversation
As the flight attendants admonished you to stow your gear in the overhead compartment.
My day flew past with meetings and conversations, sun skirling across my sky.
At seven pm, the Youth Choir launched into Christmas favorites, and I helped
Fill bowls with chips and uncork Charles Shaw. Parents crowded into the space.
I listened to the light wave of child harmonies and thought of you, sleeping in the middle rows
Somewhere over the dark Pacific, engines a single note tucked in the back of mind.
At ten, I pulled into the driveway, gray sky disguising the big grinning moon,
And ticked off the hours until you would see Japan. How odd that your journey
Falls on the Day of Infamy, and you and I, linked by the light of a shared moon,
Worry about deciphering airport corridors marked out in Kanji.
You are levelheaded and smart and brave. Still I am just a father with a daughter
Riding the crest of the night to meet the world.
You called early after you had taken the taxi to the foggy airport
Reporting that you'd paid the driver an extra twenty by mistake, his lucky day.
I noted that it was better to fly in fog. The air is still. Not to worry about the money.
Trekking to the International Terminal in SFO you told me you were anxious still
About deplaning in Narita and finding your way. I said you were levelheaded
And there would be signs in English everywhere. We ended our conversation
As the flight attendants admonished you to stow your gear in the overhead compartment.
My day flew past with meetings and conversations, sun skirling across my sky.
At seven pm, the Youth Choir launched into Christmas favorites, and I helped
Fill bowls with chips and uncork Charles Shaw. Parents crowded into the space.
I listened to the light wave of child harmonies and thought of you, sleeping in the middle rows
Somewhere over the dark Pacific, engines a single note tucked in the back of mind.
At ten, I pulled into the driveway, gray sky disguising the big grinning moon,
And ticked off the hours until you would see Japan. How odd that your journey
Falls on the Day of Infamy, and you and I, linked by the light of a shared moon,
Worry about deciphering airport corridors marked out in Kanji.
You are levelheaded and smart and brave. Still I am just a father with a daughter
Riding the crest of the night to meet the world.
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