"Airplane Poem #2"

Flying into the dark seems
to be my life lately.
Headphones in, tunes
on.  And the sun don't
shine anymore.  Glad
that the One who
guides me
guides the pilot as she powers us through
the light chop
cause the sun don't
shine for her anymore
either, just the light
from the instrument
panel.

"Airplane Poem #1"

Flying through Alabama airspace at
30,000 feet remembering
in the mid-October setting sun how
she left
a mark without leaving
a bruise.  Or did she leave
a bruise
deep inside that she can't see or
even know is there?
Clear air turbulence shakes the plane.  My
heart pitches and yaws.  It's been years
and I'm still
a fearful flyer.