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
Copyright © Christopher Coyle | Year Posted 2009
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