Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Elise Filka Winnie the Pooh The woman on the plane says that when we fly our organs expand. I think of the bear my aunt bought me when my sister had meningitis, not knowing what it was made of, not understanding the difference between cotton and lung. She told me that after Isabel came back from the hospital, she would be new like the toy sitting drowsily on my windowpane. Back on the plane, the man sleeping next to me has a large, bear-like chest. I imagine him breathing through fluffy white cotton. There are at least fifty bodies expanding together on this plane. We are all becoming something new and large here, suspended above the clouds, lifeless and flying. Next Poem
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