Solo Flight

Aloft, alone

with engine roar measuring my pulse, 

syncopating the whistle of wind to my breath.

Wide sky aerates my eye                                

and my worries are mapped below -         

a calligraphy of river wend                                    

glittering through the propeller’s arc

I pilot this curve of shadow and dapple

Between valleys and creases of

checkpoints plotted, 

parentheses inking rivers and roads.

I trace distances, plot minutes between before and after -

my prop parting the approaching clouds, 

my rudder dragging the dust of runways long gone

and I breathe, pendulous, light-headed, beneath canvas wings 

my compass swinging fore and aft, unsteady, uncertain.

Alone, held aloft by simple faith.

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Thanks for writing!