Tag Archive: sky


Befell

What is there
after you’ve flown?

Where are you
once you touched down?

Careful there on the ledge,
perhaps you’ll not fly again.

How sad to have flown
for the last time.

When up is down
to fall is to fly.

How joyous to have
flown at all.

I’d have thought
clouds to be harder.

I invert when I fly
for I am the sky.

So inwardly
I fall.

Alight on soft pockets
of air.

Dust
on air.

I pray while
I fall.

The whole planet
is falling.

We spin and we turn and
we tilt and we yaw.

The earth rushes to us
once befallen.

© Chagall ∞

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Teaching Humans To Fly

Relax deeply, secure in the updraft, ride the scree,
low in the pocket, let flexible tension arc about you,
buoyancy – wind rushing cilia,
spread under light and sky
in full spanned glory,
a journey upward
to thinner
rarefied
air.

© Chagall ∞

ETA Never

Alight on fragrant air,
I somersault wildly
upside-down in updrafts,
born to barrel roll.

Ascension is my only
flight plan.

© Chagall ∞

En Passant

There in the tinted glass
Circling red-shoulder hawks
On sky preserved deep blue
Even in reflection

© Chagall ∞

That You Be

On the roof
the city below
is quiet

Gray
the order of
the day

People still use clotheslines here
cursive swoops of nylon rope
wet haberdashery semaphore

Empty rivers on either side
the low-end of tugboat blasts
is lost here

Each one grabs
an arm
a leg
apiece

Spreads me like a kite
brings me to the edge
begins a count of three

A sail on the river begs a breeze
no longer grasps hold
kites below become smaller

. . . I be gone

It is certainly quieter here
save for the rush of wind

Chagall 2016

Asterism

Some have laughed
though Inuits espy
the sun doesn’t rise
where it used to

They claim
polar bears
are burning

Through the center
we point now
to different stars

(a more distant spot
in heaven)

They can
no longer
say if tomorrow
will rain

Chagall 2016

Silhouettes On Horizons

short
star gazers
long

a
lot
like
the
tall
ones

or are they just farther away?

Chagall 2016

First Dates Are Tricky

I picked her up 8 PM

As she locked the front door
I stood aside breathing in deeply
the cold winter sky

Where are we off to?
she asked excitedly

Pointing up I blurted
Orion Nebula, a star-forming region
below Rigel and Betelgeuse
there’s some folks I’d like you to meet

After staring at me long and hard, she said
Wait here a moment, let me grab my gloves

Chagall 2015

Down In The Feather

She fell from the branch
immediately shaping a figure S
then soared on a wing full of air
while I remain here unamused
lacking desire to fly

Chagall 2015

A small bird flying overhead
determinedly through the wind
high above is tossed she chirps
desperate to be somewhere

Chagall 2015

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