They innocently board--Naïve
and trusting.
Unaware of its metal parts
rusting.
Taking their seats, commencing
complaining.
The captain downplays incessant
raining.
He’s thinking about
real things.
Over too many drinks from
too many stings.
Lift off—Way up high.
Lightning roams and rips
the sky.
They gasp and gag.
Knuckles bleed white.
Perspectives shift.
From left to right.
Their lives pass before
them.
Inside the pigeon.
Torment rules them.
Breeding religion.
Down it goes.
No turning back.
They make their peace.
Cover their tracks.
The tower struggles.
It’s much too late.
As time waits to seal their
fate.
An old woman stares.
An attendant cries.
The pigeon drops.
Toward it’s demise.
The captain’s voice
is painfully high.
With a broken apology.
And a shameful goodbye
-
February 1993 –
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Changes
Spring
sing.
Rivers
new flow.
Buds
bring flowery show.
Splashed
across a hilltops view.
Onward,
to skies a blue.
Rosy
blisters show no defeat.
Moving
toward fate.
Flaming
gliders Fall.
Shuffling
feet kick through it all.
All
gone.
Winter
is here.
Pondering
Summers demise.
Hoping
for Spring to be here.
Icy
blanket upon.
Something
to fear?
Cannot
imagine what went so wrong.
- December 1993 -
