Flight in Time


Flight in Time

I glow
Residue of full moons past;
Faded sunburn beaches,
Shells worn thin by sand caressed
Rain storm remnants, snow storms,
Dust storms, hail storms, heart storms
Spirit flush with neon sheen
Soft radiance
Into waning years.

Smiling, youthful conceits
Bereft of engine roar
Propeller blur
Impending wingtip stall
The pattern fields and farms
Dust-plume roads of youth
No solace there:
No dead-stick landing
On that rocky patch,
Thank God.

From Poems of the New Old West
Copyright 2002, Jack Purcell


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 )

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s