Strapped …
And delightfully suspended
In a seat inside
The somehow-gravity belly
Of and east-bound
Iron angel.
Far, far below the
Blue-highway we travel
The yellow earth is
Devouring itself again.
Am I safe?
Is any of us?
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Gunn4
I spend the whole of any flight staring out of the window, love it.
Jim
Always happy to have a window seat 🙂
Love it
Those rays are magnificent!
The poem came to me while I was on a plane, had to search for the photo; agree: a fantastic image.
🙂
love this
Thank you very much.
Lovely, I think it goes through the heads of all of us when we are flying on a plane:)
Am I safe? Is any of us? this poem made me recall how unsafe i feel these days on planes, any other mode of transport is preferable now.
Even bikes ? 😉
Me? I love flying, really!
The last part of the poem came from just after take off when the plane flew over a building/construction site in the middle of forest: yellow earth movers, wagons etc…
the spread of the city.
Am I safe (from it)?
Does any of that make sense ??
heh, i feel at home on my bikes, in control, a very key ingredient! lol