Vantage

I watch with equal eyes

When I hear the roar

Of screaming machines

And see their paths cross 

With the silent hawk

I watch with equal eyes 

Those dense earth bones

Whose only dream

Is to also see with great distance

And to rule from above

The great big below

I watch with equal eyes 

As I think how far we’ve come

In another whirl around the sun

Like Icarus who wore 

His father's faulty wings

I tangle my glory in yours

I watch with equal eyes

As we fall out of the sky

Then remember how to soar

Fortune

Fruit
Not of the sea 
Washed up
On the beach
Juices leaked 
Into the arid sand 
Ripening

Driftwood

Planted ashore

Crowned with

A nine inch iron beacon

Half hammered

Rusting

Pilot

He will never walk among

The kings of wands.

An obsession with desire,
Though a desirable affection,
He is only king of my thoughts;

A beautiful craft constructed from
Aluminum touches, muffled voices;

His hands grip the yoke.

Tonight, I tell him which way to go,
And he teaches me what I already know—
Go fast, go slow—what difference does it make?
Our destination is always the same;

The pilot owns the navigator,
The sky owns our fate.