Somewhere over the ocean, battling headwinds;
high above a continent's ecliptic,
tunnelling through night,
the sharp edges of parting dulled
by distance and the taste of wine;
cocooned in altitude
beyond the reach of the quotidian:
Lieber Vati, look, no hands -
catch me if you can!
Abfliegen
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108101002371
Свидетельство о публикации №108101002371
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