Poetry - So shoot me, I was inspired.
I'm too lazy to switch to my writing journal to post this. For the record, it's precisely 100 words long. Does it count as drabble in verse? *grins* Written while flying out of Phoenix last Thursday.
§ - §
Each flash of artificial lightning,
Each blue-gray moment swallowed by storm and night,
Reveals millions of small streaks
Caroming past on a backdrop of faded nothing.
Each jog of machinery,
Each jostle that sends vibrations through the body,
And a small jolt of subconscious fear through the heart,
Reminds of the price of flying through.
The odds are kind,
But the stale feel of recycled air
Blowing shivers down the spine
Does nothing to allay fears of risk.
The last clinging vapors of natures living breath
Relinquish human wings,
Despite the tender touch of crackling contact.
The stars are out.
§ - §
§ - §
Each flash of artificial lightning,
Each blue-gray moment swallowed by storm and night,
Reveals millions of small streaks
Caroming past on a backdrop of faded nothing.
Each jog of machinery,
Each jostle that sends vibrations through the body,
And a small jolt of subconscious fear through the heart,
Reminds of the price of flying through.
The odds are kind,
But the stale feel of recycled air
Blowing shivers down the spine
Does nothing to allay fears of risk.
The last clinging vapors of natures living breath
Relinquish human wings,
Despite the tender touch of crackling contact.
The stars are out.
§ - §