like a small plane
you sputter
and spin through
the low sky
just over the green
hands of reaching
trees and the black
whips of power
lines. you just need
to reach the ocean
the blue arms of
sea and sand.
past the houses,
the highways.
you've been circling
out of gas
for sometime now
and your
heart is ready,
is willing
to land.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
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