Although she felt fine
the airline card suggested:
“Cross your legs. Rotate
the dangling foot in a circle.
Continue until tired.”
She tried fifty stretches but still
the landing gear lodged sideways.
She could see the front wheel
turned wrong on live satellite tv
as her foot circled obediently,
moved maybe-clots around
her body stuck in the narrow
space in coach seating.

Soon her ankles felt as loose
as a broken wheel.

She knew her son watched
at home, could see the stupid
wheel jammed crosswise,
and her hands cramped suddenly
from holding steady as the plane flew
for three hours to burn fuel.

When finally the pilot said:
“bend down” she leaned over
until the plane’s nose dipped
low enough for the broken wheel
to mar the runway’s center line with fire.

She knew her time had come
despite the exercise

because the news showed everything
except how her son must have stood
tense as a blocked artery
until the plane stopped
and the tv went blank.

© 2005 Christine Klocek-Lim

How to perceive red

Consider the persistence of memory,
how once seen, a red moon lingers
with a cinnamon-like tingle.
Remember the black widow’s
crimson hourglass in the garage
behind your cherry-bright bicycle.
Conjure the blood-lost wrench
of miscarriage: how the rose-
leather sofa, too soft for sorrow,
held the cast of a ruddy sunset.

Then there’s the leaden weight of rust,
how the muffler lost its battle with snow
and salt and dropped unexpectedly
because the pipes were rotten.
Your scarlet gloves sponged
the road’s grime and never washed clean.
Bleach was not a good idea. Fuschia
is not your favorite color.

Recollect the paint of death
on the ocher mummy, her curled
fingers stopped over the heart
with tragic calm. You could
not bear the quiet and fled
to the paintings, found Rubens’
Samson and Delilah. Her florid gown
dabbed his slumbered skin in carmine
shadows. There is no forgetting
the abandon of reason for passion.

Witness the autumn leaves dropped
like garnets on the front stoop,
how Mars rose in the east at dusk.
See the cardinal poised on the sill,
vermilion plumage puffed thick
as your son’s maroon scarf
against your arm.
Consider the persistence of love,
how once felt, it’s coral glow lingers
in memory’s quiet room, how red
is the color of the heart.

© 2005 Christine Klocek-Lim

Whatever you do, avoid falling for Amazon.com’s heart-pounding message:

Wait! Add $1.75 to your order to qualify for FREE Super Saver Shipping.

I need two new calendars. I procrastinated. Squinting at the miniature January that appears on all December 2005 calendars is bad for the eyes, by the way.

Thus, my foray onto Amazon and my nail-biting refusal to succumb to FREE Super Saver Shipping. I searched for 45 minutes for that perfect, under $5 item to add to my cart. I searched in vain. I bought my calendars and paid for shipping: $4.98.

It hurt a lot. Even now the faint, nagging thought that I did wrong festers in the back of my head. . .