Gentle Arc

My eyes
settle on shadows tucked
between plush folds
of ivory and grey
ENTANGLED
with spherical blue.

I feel flutter
threading needles around
anvils and ROLLING
currents of cumulus
bedforms.

We skim the upper limit and
GLIDE–
just short of the wispy ceiling.

The view is
magic.

I find a flash / BOILING
above the horizon. The ground is glassy
and everything
sparkles
in adventurous anticipation.

then

My gentle ARC ends
in the crenulated
comforts of
home.

© SF Jones, 2014

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