I’ve been thinking         eyesore refineries
of flight this week         where father worked
how it’s shaped me.       and the fume smell
what I leave out:           Columbia, luminescent
I touched moon soil      in multiple ion trails
I cried for the shuttle    moving eastward still.
Note: Descriptions of the Columbia disaster, including the phrase “multiple ion trails” are
paraphrased from the Wikipedia entry on the Columbia Shuttle disaster.
( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Space_Shuttle_Columbia_disaster )
                        For a brief time
                             I flew joyful
                                 and monumental
                                    after a while, I didn’t.
Gliding between chemtrails                      I couldn’t afford to get back west.
inventing reasons to be anywhere                     I never wanted to stand still;
but where I was. Train plane unlicensed                      I was afraid of so much.
Chinatown bus I’d vault the Atlantic coast                     up and down the coast
                                                           no desire to ascend
                                                                on mapped patterns
                                                                     My farewell: “the crane takes
                                                                         flight” – I came unglued.