LeeAnn Heringer's "the voice of my poems"

the voice of my poems

the voice of my pen is not my voice

though I can imitate it. sometimes
catch the lower frequencies of it when I lie
beside you in the close warm dark of bed

it's the voice of the captain flying
the plane of my dreams, pointing out
wonders 30,000 feet down

and to the left

but the heads of the other passengers
are in my way