I find that I am afraid
            yet you're the one who's flying.
The empty nest?  A cavern.
            No clue what to think; what to do.
How does one proceed?
            What's the point of crying or trying
                          to hold a heart that's flown . . .
And that's the trouble;
            your heart, my heart,
                          all the same if the truth is known.
But you're the one with wings
            and you scare me with your fledgling flight.
I will be ok, but right now,
            I am afraid of your height.

when the moon is full and very, very bright
you have to look twice and respect the sight
it's been coming around, since the start of it all
when it's at it best, it appears like a ball
that ball is bright if the clouds are just right
shining in the new day as it completes its night's flight

Brian Hill - 2020 # 240

to be a bird of great wing,
pulling across the folds
of cloudy space

intimately familiar of each
turn between misty
white finials

with a quick flap—
out of reach,
into the opening of a
grey mountain—

evading the glimpse of
all but the sharpest
earthbound
eye...


"that space between mists"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

you take flight
high, in the sky,
above the clouds
toward the sun

the wings I wear
are broken, damaged,
weighed with despair

i search for the sun
but it’s only in vain
human adventures
with expiration dates

you took my hand
i felt finally free
when you let go,
i fell to the sea

they burned my heart
over and over again
until the ashes fell,
slumping over in defeat.

even as pain radiates
through my entire body,
the ashes rise into a phoenix,
and my heart takes flight again.

I had a lovely little drone
and every chance I had,
I'd fly so high, up to the sky
in weather good or bad.

I'd push the limits further,
and every time I flew,
my boldness knew no limits.
My confidence - It grew!

I'd fly until "connection lost"
and RTH* kicked-in;
a feature oh so good at hiding
multitudes of sin!

And so, more reckless did I grow
more daring I became.
I mocked the regulations
and derided them as "lame"!

And then, one chilly, blustery day,
I set forth to the beach.
I flew my drone out to an island,
almost out of reach.

The wind, it changed direction
and turned into a gale.
My lovely drone fought valiantly,
but nature did prevail.

A watery grave engulfed my drone
in cold and wicked sea.
I lost my lovely little drone
and little drone lost me.

So now I cry and save my cash
and count the days 'til when
I'll buy a lovely brand new drone
and do it all again!!!

* An automated "Return To Home" feature.

Let your mind’s eye fly forward
Right out the window
Through that faint reflection
Of your lounge.
Let it fly
Over those regulated blocks
We call estates
The ant city landscape
Then over the plains
To the sea.

Head to the far horizon,
Over the curve
Of The Earth
And on
Into blackest space.
Out by Pluto
Through Orion’s Belt
And The Milky Way.
Beyond Andromeda
And countless galaxy clusters.

Then look back
Towards our tiny blue marble.
Look back
At everything we know.
See how trivial
We humans
Really are.

Our world,
A tiny speck
Upon the canvas
Of the cosmos.
One grain of sand
Upon an infinite beach.

Then fly back home
But still remember
That the Glory of Existence
Is Everywhere
To be enjoyed
And cherished
While ever we live.

Paul Butters

© PB 21\7\2020.