September hues of school day smiles and bran new leather bags
creative minds as young as baby figs with eager hearts of lore
My days were full with mischief makers and bragging scalawags
but as the evening fell it was dad and I and paper planes galore
Lined creased papers pressed against father's smoky fingers strong
a wide tooth grin that said it all, while folding them in Ludwig style
Symmetrical wings shaped at the edge to fly through standby throng
inside a backyard airfield 16x24, .. we launched then bridged a mile
One was shaped like a prayer mantis one was fashioned like a jet
homework waited as we glided through a glide-path then a runway
Aerobatic landings that were much more thrilling, then a Lego set
oh the wanders of those days when we both knew, how to play.
August 13, 2022
Sponsor John lawless
Contest Name PAPER AIRPLANES
FATHER & SON
The indoor soccer arena
was under the glide path
of the western approach
to the international airport
The still-clever father
made a snide macho comment
to the gold ear-ringed teenager
with the thick-muscled legs
“Uh huh”, said the kid
mentally reducing the angle and
speed of an attack on goal
as they crossed the parking
lot in the surreal fog of a
lake effect thaw
Breaking low ceiling,
its wings broad with flaps, the big
silhouette of a descending jet liner
was moving so slowly that it just
seemed to hover like a large
manta ray suspended in the lift
of a mild ocean current
“Nice”, said the man
“Yeah” said the kid,
who followed the plane over the
shining bald head and the
“gee wiz” gaze of his thickening
father and, just for an instant,
for the very first time, he thought
of his dad as a man
who could love
The Heron, grey priest of the shallow mere
Stalks slow and calculated t’ward its prey
With cool far seeing vision of a seer
And knowing his own power needs no defray
For he alone adjudicates the day
His strategy grinds more than single axe
A long unhurried glide path to new gaze
Will reposition him for a climax
And total consummation of his plays
The end - submission that for him is praise
I’m a two-winged poet
not just single-wing
And would never clip one
to fly into this wind
As one wing goes up
the other comes down
Until both work together
when flying most proud
A zero-sum landing
with talons not right
Only shortens the glide path
—and ruins the flight
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
B:L:O:O:D:B:A:T:H
God’s wrath
~ Footpath ~
~ Glide path ~
Demon wing dipped bloodbath. God’s wrath seethes.
Gentle souls find footpath. Glide path breathes.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Glide path – the final path followed by an aircraft as it is landing,
thus our souls breathe as they alight in heaven.
I’m a two-winged poet
not just single-wing
And would never clip one
to fly into this wind
As one wing goes up
the other comes down
Until both work together
when flying most proud
The zero-sum landing
with talons so tight
Only shortens the glide path
and ruins the flight
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
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