Tops o’ cloud banks flyin’ by
Desert stretches to horizons
rugged ranges rise up front as
jet stream races out full pace.
South over mountain bullhead clouds
clear blue skies and sea grass green,
smoked horizons leading out.
Descending through storm clouds
shot through with stark white light,
suns last hurrah
Split second timing,
straighten up ‘n’ drop her down
a three point landing on the strip.
Storm clouds banked up,
clear white light,
from wing tip arced to fuselage.
Seated in their cabin keep
Profiles traced in stark relief
Ground crew muffled ‘gainst the storm,
baggage trailers arc a course,
wheels cut waves roped Tarmac bay’s,
markers, signs ‘n’ paddle boards.
Evening storm abates ‘n’ brews
fresh turbulence firing soon.
Wet weather gear streams rivulets
sloshing cross wet streaming ground.
Smoked horizons blurred from view.
and airport lounge.
Buy my novel “The Ute”