Flight Poem By Floyd Skloot

Flight Poem By Floyd Skloot

The summer night is flying
by, rattling windows where light
is alive. Bats are shadows,
brilliant flickers in a mist
of insects, and bumblebees
circle the hyssop. The air
thickens. Directly above
us now a small plane crosses
the horizon of the half
moon on its way to the sea.
This is a night even deer
might soar. We believe they are
searching for a wind somewhere
within the thicket of wild
rose, hazel, and blackberries.
We believe the dark whisper,
of grasses to be an owl’s
wingprints, the drift of oak leaves
an echo of shifting tides
from beyond the Coast Range.
As silence glides in gentle
spirals back to the earth, first
the sheen, then the shock of all
we have seen comes clear. This is
the moment we know pure flight
has little to do with lift
or drag and much to do with
dreams. It is the moment we
turn together to begin
our own powerful ascent.

Floyd Skloot
first published in Chelsea 60
also from Evening Light

Flight Poem By Floyd Skloot

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

Scroll to top