Flight Z 462
As I sit, pinioned in seat 40b,
squashed against a bulkhead,
ears crackling in protest,
and general circulation - struggling,
I think - watching frenzied clouds
billowing into castles
that this is a beautiful world, blue,
An ecstasy of untouchable strength.
If I fell
would I be held by pendant castles?
buoyed by etherial blue?
Or would I spiral down
through all that cushioned beauty
on some anchored field
in earthy gravity.
I expect so
it seems likely.
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