Further Away Than Memory Poem by Robert Rorabeck

It feels good to be away from the other unmasked bodies,
To be asleep in the day where the airplanes recede like signed
Treaties;
And it is wonderful to be directly underneath the flight path of
All the airplanes leaving West Palm Beach,
For now all the stewardesses go leaping straight above me,
Like Jacks over his candles, only that they are Janes and their
Candles are the soft sheets over my eyes:
And I don’t need thunderstorms or air-conditioning to sooth me,
For I can still remember how the telephone booths glowed with
Some sort of heliotropic light,
Like fish tanks for the wayward and color blind; and sure she
Still has blond hair,
And a family that sways like the wind chimes she grew while
Breathing,
But I am not in her room anymore- and I am a place further away
Than memory.