Flying Home

image courtesy of  flickr.com

Flying Home

When you read this I’ll be gone

on wings of aluminium

jet-propelled

rocket fuelled

across a hemisphere of night

sky flecked with stars and a swinging moon

We launch ourselves after midnight

exhausted

and twinged with guilt, relief, excitement and fear:

flying always smirched with unease

these days, this planet, this disease of terror and distrust

An endless night might take us home –

to the stars or to Australis Incognita –

but known to us as home:

children, parents, shades and blood

await our safe arrival

From desiccant dust and oppressive sun,

alien life and rules –

to freezing Melbourne

swept with Antarctic wind

and awash with blessed rain

Dripping trees

a welcome bark

cold beer

hot bacon

and ... home

I hope you all have safe and happy holidays - I hope to be 'calling in' but I expect limited access to the cyber world for a short while.  All the best, Isabel xx

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