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Tom Russell
It Doesn't Always Happen Like This
Let’s say you’re looking for the thing with feathers.
And since you’ve already looked everywhere else,
you’re running alongside a Boeing 767 at 35,000 feet
over the Rocky Mountains. You figure that if you could
just get out of the cold, windy, thin air and into
the comfortable, well-lit cabin you could uncross
your frozen fingers and pull that fortune cookie
from your shirt pocket. Your quest would continue from there
with what would surely be a comforting clue
from a crumbled confection. You open the door and no one
gets sucked out into the abyss. After closing it and taking
a seat in the serene airborne living room the oxygen masks come
tumbling down anyway and fluttering along behind yours
is a perfect white feather.
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