Soliloquy

The plane glides over the tarmac, touching it once,
Then twice, before wincing in pain as if overcome
By the weight it’s carrying. She looks out of the window,
Overcome by the iniquity of what this journey means.
As if staring with such intensity could bring back
The lives of her parents, and those of her forebears,
She speaks of a city – once of joy, now of despair – that
No longer speaks the tongue she learnt five decades ago.

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