An Ahah

I see suddenly clearly
through the window
while we await
our soup, an
ordinary man,
features cratered and
puzzled. He wanders
about in search
maybe of a place.
He speaks to
an invisible face
and hears through something
mounted on his ear.
The attachment is
a very thin thread.
He carries packages.
.
The world around him
looks like a jumble of bubbles.
But it's really a vacuum.
I realize how
un-assuring the wind is,
as he is tethered
far from birth.
.
Many of them walk,
straight on their missions,
tethered on thin threads.
They all take chances,
venturing far from sleep.
Yet there is a place, somewhere, they
emerge from,
a warm feathered nest,
a bed, a voice not kind
but familiar.