The Landing
Image by Alinea Collective
Everyone talks about that feeling when they land.
Sweeping in, dropping slowly,
Gliding through the valley.
Engulfing you on all sides—that Big Sky.
You shift around in the aisle seat to get a glimpse out the window
The beauty of the lakes pressing into hills,
giving way to those crisp, rugged peaks.
I always think they are ridges from another realm:
A Queen’s Crown
With her worshiping plains expanding to the east far as eyes can roam.
On the way down, the elderly gentleman sitting next to you
(He’s a Real cowboy, too)
offers you some of his trail mix and asks,
“How long ya visiting?”
You smile, because,
“I’m coming home.”
He smiles back,
Nodding.
And pours a palm-full of peanut m&ms
Into your hands.
When you finally touch down
The most perfect, little airport greets you with her taxidermied flair.
You sweep up the local paper,
Quickly
To get out the door.
And look up
As the sky opens up
Streaked in orange
With just a hint of her usual shade of grey.
Then turn your head to check
If he’s waiting outside his truck with a fist-full of wildflowers.
Or likely, not yet.
You can’t blame him for running late.
From an adventure, with the wind still in his hair.
So you wait, and breathe that sky in.
Secretly
You won’t tell him you’ll forgive him.
Because these are your favorite moments
The way the sky welcomes your landing.
And you know you’re back
Here.