Poetry · Writing

an afternoon view from above

Hang gliders

from day to-night

dangling from the stars

from night to snow

crawling fear of loss climbs up their legs

 

sadistic heat tries their sides too high to stop and fly

from hell to now

 

from now to the landing

they said it would be easy- two hands on the wheel

flow go from gold post and a Jumper like Hayden

changed the world in an evening- one hand and a cold feeling

they said it would be easy- lost sight of the pad

one map and fried pen

need to go home, on tour with endless shows

endless loops- they said

same map and sinking blimps

it would be easy

if the landing pad stayed still.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s