here and there

On the ferry over to Manly I see planes slicing up into the sky over the Harbour Bridge. One after another they cut diagonal towards the heavens like they’re on a conveyer belt, evenly spaced. I remember in London, Tom telling me that wherever you look in the London sky, you will see a plane. No matter where we looked, trying to catch a corner of empty sky, there was a crawling ant plane somewhere in our peripheral vision. Not here. A dusty quarter moon caught my eye in the dry blueness, but the rest of the sky, I am happy to notice, is empty.