LEAVE-TAKING

LEAVE-TAKING

Each night for four nights before
Daniel Thomas missed the curve
he dreamed --
the dreams followed him long into day.

In the first dream, he saw
Archangel Michael
guide the safe landing of every airplane
coming into Detroit.
Daniel Thomas had never been to Detroit,
rarely traveled,
didn't usually remember dreams,
and was vaguely irritated when the
dream came back to him
over his morning coffee,
his drive to work,
his mid-morning meeting with Finance,
lunch with a sales rep from Moline,
and was still with him
on his drive home that evening.

On the second night, he dreamed of
Elijah scaling the clouds in his
incarnadine chariot.
Daniel Thomas hadn't read the
Old Testament in years,
didn't usually remember dreams,
and got to thinking of one or two
other stories he'd learned as a child.

On the third night, he watched as he
kissed his wife a tearful goodbye, and
contemplated the empty suitcase
spread open across the bed.
No matter how hard he tried, he
couldn't think what to pack.
In the morning, he wondered where
his wife had stored their suitcases,
and considered the possibility
of a vacation.

On the fourth night he dreamed of
his older brother Brian, who was lost
in the tangles of Viet Nam in 1972,
and never found.
No words passed between them as
they tossed back beers for the first time,
bathed in his brother's refulgent smile.

On the fifth day when Daniel Thomas
missed the curve
he floated like Elijah in a chariot
guided by Archangel Michael,
saw his sleeping wife, who was not yet
aware of his sudden departure,
and understood why the suitcase
had been empty.

He would need nothing, now --
Nothing but to take Brian's outstretched hand
so as not to miss this next curve