Drought

I have not had to beware looking up at the sky

For quite some time

For fear of raindrops stinging my eye;

“Welcome back, old friend.” I say to the rain,

“It’s good to see you again.”

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takeoff

Lilting tilting through the air

grinding gears that lift and tear.

pavement kisses, say goodbye

break free, takeoff, to the sky.

 

Whistling wind that slivers in

waiting, cold and shivering.

burning rubber lights the night,

twirling smoke-flavored goodbyes.