From high above the heaving sea,
With iPad chart upon my knee,
I gaze into the endless sky
As cotton balls of life creep by.
The indications of our speed,
Created by our mighty steed,
Seem unrelated to the view
Of floating in the aching blue,
And yet the world drifts slowly by,
From pewter seas to mountains high.
In boundless tones of floating fire,
The sun at last deigns to retire.
The lights are dimmed, our eyes relax,
The stars are all turned up to max.
Glowing cities that pass below,
Like jewel-studded carpet on ebony snow,
Are milestones on a featureless road,
As we speak on in our acronym code.
Elastic hours speed up and slow down
Till the last frantic minutes as wheels meet the ground.
Stephen Tomkins
21 November 2019
Los Angeles