In a plane above the Appalachians.
Through the window just clouds, land & sea.
Pilot calls in just to check the station.
Traffic control is a priority.
Years ago I fell in love on a flight.
Talked about fiction & cinema, too.
When there's nowhere to go, no room to fight—
Whoever I was; she hadn't a clue.
Stared deep into bluish eyes to insist.
I'm a writer & I write what I see.
All we can do in this world is exist.
Perhaps, not perfect; I'm certainly me.
Can't get a hit if you don't take a swing,
Looking out over that aeroplane wing.
No comments:
Post a Comment