It’s The End Of The World As We Know It [07]: Flight
Flight
Flick the determined
grey beetle off the page
and its elliptical half
fortress trundles back again.
Fog billows over the spangled
banner in July like smoke,
like the Atlantic is of a mind
that’s hot and made up.
There’s a seagull ringed with seaweed red
white amid the restless blue.
A cold air snakes through millstones
that have chewed halfway below the yards;
likely never used, with mailboxes fixed red
on black iron. Above, a large white fist
breaks on a crumpled child’s kite in blue.
A lady says Paige, you never listen,
I’m gonna make you walk back!
The sand on the sidewalk frames small tracks.
If there were wind enough and flight,
where is there to go?
The fog is going unnoticed
everyone is going back.
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