Yet more from the English Comp binder, published in the October 26, 1992 The New Republic:
Frequent Flier
In the sky's blue eye, distance draws
like a magnet.
Clouds like syllables of sheer ecstasy
and even the blue is fake,
as you've been told.
Here?--where you weren't
just now. And where
you won't be,
soon.
In the time it take you to read these lines.
In the time it takes you to turn
a page, or smile out the window
at what's rushing, there,
unnamed and of absolutely no consequence,
in the sky's blue eye.
~ Joyce Carol Oates
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