airplanes in a holding pattern look for runways
others wait their turn to take off
and i sit here,
picking my nose,
but i`m convinced it won`t last.
the mother ship of tangents will soon send me
a new sort of distraction.
Tags: airplanes, boredom, landings, mother ship in the east, poem, take offs
you have a way of observing familiar feelings
“and i sit here,
picking my nose”
Those two lines bring a certain whimsical charm. Great job, Steve!
Thanks Millie. Unfortunately, the nose picking is true, but boredom thankfully happens most at the cusp of seasons. Eventually the landscape pixels seem to reshuffle with snow and what not and time moves a little quicker.
There’s a TV screen in the departure lounge and – ooh look! – it’s showing baseball.
I toast your magic visualization capabilities with a beverage of your choice. The end never looked better.
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