Waiting on the Runway

Your death grounded me,

Left me flightless, stuck,

Couldn't get out, had to stay here

Where the weather was unpredictable, rough.

I sat on the runway

Couldn't take off for years.

Even when it started to clear up,

I found I had forgotten how

To start my engine.

Not ready to fly, admittedly,

I examined the weeds

Along the cracked, cold, concrete.

I searched the sky for a sign,

Tripped, stumbled, lived in

The quiet, the silence

That fell when you disappeared.

Clearing, clearing.

There are several planes in front of me still,

A back up.

It feels like it will never be my turn

To lift off,

But I can see it coming.

It's in front of me now.