It’s ridiculous to see a coastline
from an airplane.

There’s nothing you can do about it,
and if the limit between one
part and another—the flounce of land,
the oceanic blank

too just-shy of eternal to say
anything halfway dignified about—swelled
or shrank, how
would you know? You wouldn’t,

not at this distance, just as you’re too
close to watch your own fingernails
growing infinitesimally all
the time, which they appear to keep doing

even after you’re dead, and
don’t.