Terminal Shores Airplanes will get you closer to God, but it is not the proximity to heaven by way of height, columnar clouds are not the gate. Instead, a collective suppression of panic rises, admission to a trembling sky, and the veil of my ordinary disbelief thins. An acceptance emerges, the faith of strangers partaking of one fate none can influence. How many sacraments have I witnessed? Leaving home on the redeye over city lights that end abruptly in dark marshes the certain shores of our great, terminal lake. Saline, the reflections, salty words fill silent mouths, turbulent thoughts echo. We take turns gripping the arm rest-- our tithe to each other-- til we find a gentle level and sigh one breath: greater than ourselves.
Lindi Perry has written poems off and on since her college days, where she won some local awards and then got cold feet before she could publish. She’s braver now, and sending these little personal revelations out into the world.
Amethyst Review 