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Coming Down to Earth Grounded
I see a clearing
It's big enough to land in
The grass is short
No rocks or bumps
It's all clear for landing
My heart beats in panic
Tears of sweat run down my face
Fear grips my body
In expectant embrace
The engine splutters and coughs
Bangs erupt from broken wings
I hear my own screams
The smoke is acrid in flared nostrils
My flesh burning, stinks
Ah! I savour a touchdown, touche!
Copyright ©
John Anderson
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