Post-Vacation Tristesse

The Jumbo Jet has barely shuddered off The ground, and I'm depressed. My scuba mask And fins, my fly rod and beach hat Crush each other in an overhead locker Dark as the bedroom closet they're returning to. Already the week's good times melt Together like caramels in a hot car. My vow to "Do this more often!" recedes With the jade palms and sun-stroked beaches I can barely see through my scratched window As the pilot thanks us for "flying United," and climbs through ectoplasmic Clouds into the jet stream that circles Earth's head like a tedious tune, And like a kick in the rear, hustles us Homeward through a sky which, though it looks blue enough to house heaven, is colorless As life without you, and just goes on and on.