The Jumbo Jet has barely shuddered off <br />The ground, and I'm depressed. My scuba mask <br />And fins, my fly rod and beach hat <br /> <br />Crush each other in an overhead locker <br />Dark as the bedroom closet they're returning to. <br />Already the week's good times melt <br /> <br />Together like caramels in a hot car. <br />My vow to "Do this more often!" recedes <br />With the jade palms and sun-stroked beaches <br /> <br />I can barely see through my scratched window <br />As the pilot thanks us for "flying <br />United," and climbs through ectoplasmic <br /> <br />Clouds into the jet stream that circles <br />Earth's head like a tedious tune, <br />And like a kick in the rear, hustles us <br /> <br />Homeward through a sky which, though it looks <br />blue enough to house heaven, is colorless <br />As life without you, and just goes on and on.<br /><br />Charles Harper Webb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/post-vacation-tristesse/
