Descent From the Clouds

Prepare for landing boeing 747 Its path meandering descending from heaven Up here in high definition the sky as black as molasses Crisp and clear as when your optician gave you a first pair of glasses Dropping through the clouds with a bump and a shudder clearing the grey shrouds the aircraft did judder Into the night we flew streets lit by orange glow I wonder who choose this hue by which half our lives go lights on a road perforate the black crawling no faster than an insect a solitary car on a secretive track their journey no one else will inspect a saviour, a murder, a robber, a lover their intent there is no way of knowing too late to find out, the flight is all over the airport beneath us is growing