The Lost Pilot

Posted by Maverick ~ on June 19, 2016
Posted in: Music, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , .

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The Lost Pilot
 James Tate
for my father, 1922-1944

Your face did not rot
like the others—the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him

yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his wife and daughter,
the poor ignorant people, stare

as if he will compose soon.
He was more wronged than Job.
But your face did not rot

like the others—it grew dark,
and hard like ebony;
the features progressed in their

distinction. If I could cajole
you to come back for an evening,
down from your compulsive

orbiting, I would touch you,
read your face as Dallas,
your hoodlum gunner, now,

with the blistered eyes, reads
his braille editions. I would
touch your face as a disinterested

scholar touches an original page.
However frightening, I would
discover you, and I would not

turn you in; I would not make
you face your wife, or Dallas,
or the co-pilot, Jim. You

could return to your crazy
orbiting, and I would not try
to fully understand what

it means to you. All I know
is this: when I see you,
as I have seen you at least

once every year of my life,
spin across the wilds of the sky
like a tiny, African god,

I feel dead. I feel as if I were
the residue of a stranger’s life,
that I should pursue you.

My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and, you, passing over again,

fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake

that placed you in that world,
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.

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✈️

19 comments on “The Lost Pilot”

  1. Sky Pilot – very appropriate! 😉
    The poem – hauntingly beautiful.
    Your images – complimentary, with a sense of surrealism. Particularly, the first image with its combination of elements that takes the eye from the foreground to the background. Such contrasting scenes… Just beautiful. The more I look (and I’m compelled to look) the more I see…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Father’s usually evokes images of neck ties, gold clubs, and barbecue so I’m not sure which is more creative; the poem, the music, or the thought to use this particular poem for father’s day and your bringing together these three elements. Very nice photos.

    Liked by 1 person

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