Flying east at dusk

The setting sun100_4863_0161ed
chases us eastward
orange-scorched ripples
of cumulus white race
with us neck-and-neck

ablaze, dying wisps of cotton
embers envelop us while
about to be snuffed out by
rapidly encroaching nightfall

fleeting light from behind
speeds toward
a head-on collision
with onrushing darkness

a mesmerizing train wreck100_4861_0159ed
at thirty-thousand feet
I cannot turn away from

as the now fading sun collides
with momentum-building night
the coloring-book lines
are only momentarily maintained
before we fade to black

day meets night
night meets day
never have I witnessed100_4859_0157ed
their passionate, daily
coupling as tonight

old song lyrics
come sharply to mind;
‘where the blue of the night
meets the gold of the day,
someone waits for me…’

though I was there by chance
on time and unplanned finding100_4862_0160ed
no one unexpectedly waiting
I could have still lingered
not minding at all the lack of
unexpected company as more
than fair trade-off for being able to
savor with gleeful regret and joy
that the moment was only that.

– Mark Lucker

About poetluckerate

I am a poet, writer and teacher who moved from Minnesota to New Orleans in 2008 to help rebuild the worst public school system in America. It is a huge challenge to say the least. Now, after ten years, I have returned home to my native Midwest. Writing - in many different forms and ways - has saved me untold thousands in therapy bills throughout the years. Reading my writings may do either the same - or just the opposite - for you. Read at your own risk, as I do not offer writer malpractice insurance. ;-{) I hope you enjoy what you read here.
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1 Response to Flying east at dusk

  1. slpmartin says:

    Really enjoyed your write brought back some memories of my own.

    Like

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