Passage

Feb 1, 1999


Groggy eyes, numb extremities and
a passing through to

a new world.


The air smells are

different

The world noises, a swarm of buzzing strangeness

but not entirely...


I have seen this--parts of this--

in quick short snatches

on MTV and in with a wavering view

of the Capitol's dome in the distance

like an inverted top gone haywire.

We used to think it was the White House--

an undeniable presence in so many pictures, postcards--

and so big, so big.


But reality stings harder

than all imaginings of it

or embraces you in its folds, shutting

out all else.


My nerves wake up

to the feel of new ground.

Loneliness has never felt this

immediate, nor fear so subdued.


stamps my green passport with

a stern-faced welcome to the United States.


My legs carry forth through the sliding doors.


I think I'll make a go of it.