A poem about flight

Cabin Fever


Our warm lighted bubble drones on

Through waning sun and sky and cloud,

Making its great-circle home.


And here, as always, is the life

We lead: The stratosphere beyond

Holds death, but death unnoticed.


Here it is music, meals, and naps,

And video screens, to kill time,

To insulate us, from life.



2 thoughts on “A poem about flight

    1. Seems to me I used to post them, but not for a good while, I guess. Glad you like them. Yes, been writing them for — gosh, forever, I suppose. At least, I can’t remember when I wrote the first.

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