white ice

tens of thousands of feet above you
looking out on the wing
the whiteness of the clouds
is beyond what I can describe
reflecting into the ice cubes I've left
the bottom of a drained glass
lines of ice
memories of a place I've never been
I can see the polar bear yawn

and then, I'm drawn back to you
wherever you may be
wondering what stories you could tell
about polar bears
and what it means to let go