They bring with them the baggage of men
the lost children attempting pathetically
to recreate the aura of time long gone.

If you discount the roughness of skin
travel past the thick hedge of beard
penetrate the silt on the eroded eyes
you can delayer the hardened coats
and get to see  faces barely recognizable.

Some were once too close to be missed
their names and all
but most you could hardly recall
and it agonizes your thought
were they in the same class or not.

You smile till your jaws ache
fetching stories from the blue
dazzlingly colored and half true
for they are all in the mood
to joyfully succumb to falsehood.

You could tell from the body language
who's  in the backburner
and who on the front page.

Forty years break and make men
but they feign happiness
to be united again.

flying high
swooping fast
climbing
pulling gravity

seeking
lost among the clouds
(frantic)
you among the clouds
where exactly

approximately close
relatively distant
far beyond earshot
and visual

no wings
just me
no dreams
just you
all the way
everywhere

are you moving
looking
knowing if you stopped
you'd fall
and that
would be the end of us

I am keeping my momentum
incessantly in motion
feeling if I stopped
I'd drop
like a stone,
the impact, our extinction