The Cost of Flying

Your voice comes from the clouds

Like rain falling on grass

By the edge of a forest

When the dogs are quiet


There, near the lake.

The moon is rising and the wind

Seems to shake the birches.


But it’s not a breeze – it’s me.

Perched on the telephone wires

Unable to come back down to earth


Olive oil dripping

Between your breasts


Naked skin slipping

Into a lake.


Magnesium calming

Jangled nerves


A butterfly unfurling

Inside your heart


A horizon of mountains

That are actually clouds


Cool vodka

On a dry tongue


It wasn’t hard

One look in your eyes

And I was already weightless

As soon as you touched me

I grew wings.


It wasn’t hard

Taking off with you

Circling the earth

Eight times in one day

Flying all night

Wing to wing

And on the second day

Breaking the sound barrier


The boom rolled across the horizon for ages


None of this was hard

Our only rule was

Breaking all rules

Breaking all records


No expectations no promises

No limits no ends.


Flying is easy

The hard part is landing.


Peter Jukes 2003-6


About this entry