Flying
Flying
After the long slow drive
on the wet runway,
we glided into the air
where fields of cotton
enclosed the movement
of the large plane.
We bumped onto white
downy cushions,
floating beyond mundanity,
with the trembling clouds
beneath us and the noisy
engine forming a foam bath,
as we flew across Europe.
Our holiday began
on fragile ground,
anticipating freshness,
away from the tyranny
of the familiar where
most of our time is spent.
Copyright © Mary Guckian | Year Posted 2017
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