the young at heart don't leave us
my thoughts will forever come back to you, Duke
once every while, when the time allows thought
about the being of aviators, the ones who seek the sky
Cruising through white rooms
unrevisitable
unpredictable
momentary confining
in pure solitary flying
no earthbound connection
only peaceful reflection
in the white rooms
of flying
emerging
from heavenly surroundings
soaring the tranquil white seas
skimming immovable waves
opening before you
closing behind
submergence
leaving no trace
on these desolate oceans
forever moving
drifting in
indefinite metamorphosis
Duke, you have left a trace, a revisitable memory, a mark in the sky
O.
Last edited by M. I. Icarus?; 12th Feb 2005 at 21:26.