Carrying Me Away

I wish I knew
what it was carrying me away.

It feels like carpet,
but not like magic carpet.

Berber or maybe
green and yellow shag.

Something you’d find at Graceland

and go, ’Really, Elvis,
this is the best you could do

for the Jungle Room.”

I wish I knew
what it was carrying me away.

It seems like it would be
against the odds,

but, I hope it turns out to be
something ornate,

immaculate and Persian.

–October 31, 2015