Takeoff II
The sleek slender fuselage gleamed
with deep royal splendor - sending sparkled reflections
refracting through the cool clean air.
The whirring engines spinning a trail of hot air behind them
beneath the twitching wing.
"EFIS set for departure, holding short runway two five"
checking over myriad of dials, screens, switches.
Easing the throttles forward, taking their power in the hand
feeling them come alive, respond willingly.
Grin knowingly.
Lifting off like a rush, to stride the sky!
as bird bends air and strives upward
before relaxing back in steadiness.
Banking back to intercept the SID
weaving with relaxed precision, wide slices of air
the invisible lanes of sky
Slowly speeding through space, as eagles in glide
the ruffling of feathers in air
As ground grows far below
to a bowl of huey greens -
and the world grows ever distant
separate from the souls bound skyward
as they separate from those
and cap the world with a halo
of contrail and cloud.
Trent Hopkinson. (12/3/2000)
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