fly
Away we will fly.
But not together as planned.
Your route was preset.
We circled and landed, but your destination was set and hard to change at jet speeds.
The slipstream air still smells of your hair and skin.
The skyline reflects the light from your eyes.
.
Left at the tarmac.
Missed Connections are filled with good, bad and fly-away-haiku. Did you write one? Did you find one? Before you return to your seat and fasten your seat-belt, emailing the link to Lovelorn Poets! We’ll preserve those sorrowful-slipstream-syllables for all eternity.
