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William-A-GibsonPoems
On the bus, on the plane, a child kicks the seat, Loudly sings a half-song on repeat. Watch the adults wince, the parents hiss under their breath, their patience thinned to wire. They stare harder at their safety cards, at crossword clues, at the blue glow of movies they won’t remember. This is the invitation- Not the kind printed on cardstock, but the kind that comes with grape jelly fingerprints, with questions about the clouds, with shoelaces that won’t stay tied. Tell me more about that dragon. That’s not a shadow, it’s a mountain. What would you name the ocean “ocean” was taken? When they cry, que the jokes, make a peanut packet talk- and the aisle is lighter for it. How could this not be better than folding yourself into a seat, guarding your stiff silence? Soon they’re gone, dragging backpacks like spare limbs, wet-cheeked or grinning. I sit in the quiet, watching the passengers already back to their closed faces. The question stays: how could that human response not be better when the world hands us small, loud, unrepeatable gifts- and we hand them back unopened?
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Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 10:12 AM UTC
Unopened
On the bus, on the plane, a child kicks the seat, Loudly sings a half-song on repeat. Watch the adults wince, the parents hiss under their breath, their patience thinned to wire. They stare harder at their safety cards, at crossword clues, at the blue glow of movies they won’t remember. This is the invitation- Not the kind printed on cardstock, but the kind that comes with grape jelly fingerprints, with questions about the clouds, with shoelaces that won’t stay tied. Tell me more about that dragon. That’s not a shadow, it’s a mountain. What would you name the ocean “ocean” was taken? When they cry, que the jokes, make a peanut packet talk- and the aisle is lighter for it. How could this not be better than folding yourself into a seat, guarding your stiff silence? Soon they’re gone, dragging backpacks like spare limbs, wet-cheeked or grinning. I sit in the quiet, watching the passengers already back to their closed faces. The question stays: how could that human response not be better when the world hands us small, loud, unrepeatable gifts- and we hand them back unopened?
#travel#connection#childhood#humanity#airplane#bus#kindness#silence#invitation#community
William-A-Gibson
Written by
William-A-Gibson
M/Cambria CA
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 10:12 AM UTC
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