The plane slides over the Bay Bridge,
and I return to my small life.
Hydrangeas dip their heads when
my suitcase thuds against the door.
I stand in silence, spend moments
in hope of a muted rest,
as sounds of the airport fade.
I hardly move, want to feel a little less
human to connect with the red-tailed hawk
on the oak branch above me,
the way he holds his head,
resting after his own whirlwind of flight.
Evening penetrates me and our earth,
each plant and animal that survives,
touching now—hawk, hydrangeas,
gnarled hand on the back door.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Huxtable Mohr has a B.A. from Cornell University and California Teacher’s Credential from SF State, as well as attending many conferences and classes at Stanford and Cornell. She is currently in independent study at Stanford University and is a member of the Squaw Valley Community of Writers. She has published in Mangrove, ZZYZZA, Bay Area Poet’s Coalition, Blueline, Concho RiverReview, Avocet and other publications. She has taught for ten years as member of California Poets in the Schools both in private and public schools and the San Mateo County Jail. She has published one book of poetry, The Well. Further information and work can be found on her website, NancyHuxtableMohr.org. She lives in Northern California.