Up Where the Air Is Fresh and Clean

For a moment, for a month,
Their life’s like gliding, hang time,
An arc with a view. Sundays,

They drive through the summer light
To brunch at the ski resort
And listen to live music.

Sometimes they ride the ski lift
Just to gaze down at the green,
On one occasion a moose.

The pregnancy’s going well,
So far. Neither one mentions
This is likely their last chance,

And they’re taking no chances.
She’s on leave from the airline,
Freelancing for the paper.

Yesterday, she interviewed
Community activists.
Tomorrow, they plan to drive

To visit a model home
For a piece she’s researching
On sustainable housing.

The home will be in a field
Cultivating native plants
And types of solar panels.

They’ll wander through the bright rooms,
Nodding and imagining
The whole house filled with children.

Everything feels wide open.
No alcohol, no smoking.
At the best table, they smile

At the local musicians,
And banter over their brunch.
They take selfies. He’ll save them.