Maybe

the wings of the plane cut across the view of the ground.

my head tilts up, down and side to side - 

filling in the blank spaces with maybe’s.  

i wonder if you were somewhere beneath me,

if you felt the shadow of the plane pass overhead.

maybe something in you made you look up when i flew past.

maybe a sudden feeling pulled your attention towards the cloudy sky.

maybe it was when you walked out to throw away the trash or run to get groceries.

maybe you have a new dog, and when it looked up, so did you.

maybe you found a new girlfriend who spotted a bird and you noticed the plane instead.

maybe there was a chance that we saw each other again.

maybe.

the list of maybe’s go on and on, just as they do in my mind. 

but the most reasonable maybe is -

that maybe you didnt look up. 

maybe there was no sudden feeling in you.

maybe you stepped outside a minute too late.

maybe there is no new dog.

maybe you noticed the bird instead. 

maybe. 

every time the plane starts to descend,

i press my face to the window, scanning the world below 

knowing it may be the only chance ill ever have to see you again.