Those are the Alps, those the thin banks Of cirrus we skirted, and there, in the whorl, Afflicted, like me, by a wicked momentum, Plummets the flotsam of what was my fortress – There the right wing, its rivets unbound Where it cracked from the fuselage, riddled and fissured;
Poetry Wednesday: The Navigator Falling
Poetry Wednesday: The Navigator Falling
Poetry Wednesday: The Navigator Falling
Those are the Alps, those the thin banks Of cirrus we skirted, and there, in the whorl, Afflicted, like me, by a wicked momentum, Plummets the flotsam of what was my fortress – There the right wing, its rivets unbound Where it cracked from the fuselage, riddled and fissured;