Transitional

Sometimes distance seems a bitter pill and I scream and cry for just a bit of sugar.

Yet to watch the landscape with this new perspective gives me peace
until I wonder what the fuss was all about?

- - -

He goes to breeze and back again from mist finds following
an older ether young to wrap his senses round.

- - -

Does tension hold the world aloft?
The breath of breeze to fill the sails and kiss the skin,
or hurricane to drown the trees and bring them to their shattered knees?

That is all but memory. Now is time for depthless blue to see,
to sip, and watch the aeronauts flap racetracks in the sky.