Falling Up

The horizon faded.

The ailerons, jaded. 

 

The winds blew

fast and through. 

 

The comms whirred.

Myself, concerned.

 

I clutched the yoke

and heard a croak.

 

Time halted.

The propeller, exhausted.

 

The engine had stalled

and I was thralled.

 

The winds gave a fight.

I pitched down more than slight.

and went out of sight.

 

I emerged from the clouds.

From the heavens, my engine roared loud. 

 

I glided into the light.

For this was a flight

against my fright.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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