: nightfall, and

i’m sick of leaving. DNA
in airports

all things taste
of yesterday; mouth caught

like a moth
between tweezers
fluttering

the world spins
on rusted gears.

a whisper.
all the fallen mornings.

.

: at 37000 feet

above the rain. a strange
immunity to clouds.

out of reach, or
beyond measure. the distance

of arms.

strato. pinned upwards
to the bowl of space

where weather
is undefined.

foreign
as air itself.

~

words: Patrick M. Pilarski, Canada (website & DailyHaiku)
image: 'light' - Dorothee Lang, Germany (blueprint21)

~

author's note: about the poems and discomfort zones