Taking flight from the window is always my favourite part.
The timing is crucial.
Either at pinkish dawn or orange dusk,
The sky stretches an arm of invitation.
One must grab it, clutch at it
Like hope itself
And fly.
The timing is crucial.
The sun not an inch lower or higher.
The ground far enough to feel like someone else's ground.
Taking flight from the window,
I can almost ignore the men below
Who have paid to watch me.
