Take Off

Julia Klatt Singer

 

 

The men put their belts back on

as they walk away

from the scanners, bags rolling behind

like obedient dogs.  There is

something in the act of it--

the leather through the buckle, the

cinching up--something everyday and

intimate, like watching my mother

put her hose on, as she stood in her slip

the dress hanging from the door

appraising her, as I did from the corner

of the bed, as my father would, later

when the hose and dress and belt

shared the shadows the moon left.  

 

published in Poetry East, Fall 2011