where do you put your poems like this, under the seat in front of you or in the overhead compartment?

sitting on an Atlanta-bound airplane,
going through old voicemails
and I found a few from you.

it's weird to hear your voice
like a time machine
out of the ether of my phone speaker.

I wonder if you've saved voicemails
or shirts I gave you
or any of the books I not-so-secretly sent. 

travel always makes me nostalgic
and this is only adding to it;
I want to call you yet I cannot. 

but I am happy I have these
reminders as proof of existence
as I read Mary Oliver poems in the aisle seat. 

so I put on Switzerland 
because I am a sadist 
and embrace the sadness as the plane takes off.