Reflex


    the shadow of a landing airliner swoops
    over your car as you drive the highway
    adjacent to the airport and you flinch,
    duck your head, a simple reflex unleashed
    by buried knowledge embedded in cells
    safely preserved from the hesitation of reason,
    and for that instant you have the mind of a
    trout shooting for cover, fleeing a heron’s
    passing shadow, between water and shadow
    the certain knowledge of certain danger
    declared in the sweep of wings and the
    promise of the bird’s stern eye

                                           __________
           
    "Reflex" appeared in the Fall 2006 issue of Appalachian Journal.

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