Dots and Lines

Above the high-rise buildings  
with their rectangles  
and squares of light  
Above the Circle K sign  
in the distance  
Above the restaurant across the street's  
clusters of patio lights,  
in the murky gray night sky  
with its blinking dots of helicopters and planes  
the ISS enters from the Northwest,  
just like the app said it would.  
 
It's a bright silver dot  
on the horizon  
but small  
a modest engagement ring's diamond  
 
From the astronauts' perspective  
250 miles above  
North America is a child's oversized puzzle piece  
South America too  
Big, flat shapes,  
white swirls of clouds,  
blue ocean  
Earth  
the homeland  
perhaps they long for it  
much like I long  
for what lies above  
and beyond.  
 
What do I seek  
in my quest for the ISS?  
 
Connection?  
That's hard enough on Earth,  
where more and more of my people  
real and / or longed for,  
seem to disappear  
every year  
beyond the horizon line.  
 
In the night skies  
there are so many dots  
some just as far as a helicopter flies.  
Some millions  
or billions of miles away.  
Flashing, blinking, and twinkling  
Seductive.  
Impossible.  
 
In my coastal Florida childhood  
I was obsessed with the Atlantic's horizon line  
Lulled by the rhythm of the waves  
I'd leave everything behind  
swimming in my imagination  
in a straight line,  
toward Africa  
the Western Sahara  
A different planet  
blocked by the curve of the Earth  
longing  
to the ocean's rhythm  
for what lies beyond.  
 
On the fifth-floor roof of my parking garage  
where I walk at night  
watching helicopter dots  
star dots  
plane dots  
planet dots  
high-rise buildings  
with their pretty portals of light  
the restaurant's patio lights  
the Circle K sign  
in the distance  
I watch the ISS  
exit the southeast sky  
until it disappears  
with the ultimate dispassion  
beyond the horizon line.  
 
And then I walk  
 
one lap  
 
after another.