Sully

Sully Sullenberger was on the radio

Yesterday     sharing his concern

That Boeing planes would fly again

So he was on my mind

As I watched snow fall in the empty meadow

With geese in formation overhead

And planes emerging from the clouds

Like deranged snowflakes

To make their final approach to LaGuardia

The hum-grind of landing gear extending

Ready to meet runway pavement

Or water    or grass    or sky

I pictured a plane descending

Into this very field

And me stepping aside to let it pass

As it skids between the ballfields

Leaving a long gash in the turf

And stops itself without grazing a tree

Unimpressed by the miracle of flight 

Or a landing stuck   the snow gathers

On the wings of this object

Trying to fold it into the landscape

Blanket it    still it into place

As only snow can do

After a pause the engines go quiet

Embarrassed by their intrusion

Nobody screams   nobody runs

Like a stranded whale washed up

On the beach   something's gone wrong

And there is beauty in it

A door opens near the front of the plane

The inflatable yellow slide touches down

A first person disembarks into the outfield

What will they do with the plane?

Make it take off again? Undisassembled

There's no way out of here

After Hurricane Sandy they made

A natural playground from fallen trees

Their menace gone in their new plane

After this    why not an unnnatural one?

The slides are a given

The wings an imperfect metaphor

Maybe kids can take apart the jet

Engines    with supervision

And bury the pieces around the park