by Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
Some of you are so accustomed to flying that you no longer sit by the windows. But I'd guess that at one time you gazed down, after dark, and looked at the lights below you with innocent wonder. This poem by Anne Marie Macari of New Jersey perfectly captures the gauziness of those lights as well as the loneliness that often accompanies travel.
From the Plane
It is a soft thing, it has been sifted
from the sieve of space and seems
asleep there under the moths of light.