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,

mountains,

turrets,

that this is a beautiful world, blue,

clear,

peaceful.

An ecstasy of untouchable strength.

If I fell

would I be held by pendant castles?

buoyed by ethereal Blue?

Or would I spiral down

through all that cushioned beauty

to crumple

on some anchored field

in earthy gravity.

I expect so

it seems likely.