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by Win Norwood
© 1996
You will note
that this is not a war story ... I was not there. However,
these words have been lurking in my head, and heart,
for a number of years and, until this moment, were unshared.
Coming upon your excellent web-site, I thought that,
perhaps, you might be the conduit through which I I could
express my respect to all who were there. At least from
my grateful soul ... to your e-mail ...
Dakota
Lovely lady Dakota
Floating over downtown high rises
Low-down early risers
Lost in the lonely canyons of the city
I lift up my heart and my head
Again I see the sky where I tread
Footprints invisible
Memories indelible
What am I doing, walking 'round on the ground?
I should be
Vaulting cloud towers
Fighting wind-shear
Doing lovely, smooth squeakers,
coming to earth on the main-gear
Greeting sunshine out of foggy days
and moonlight on calm nights
Cruising the fields and forests
the home of my boyhood
Suspended over hazy blue oceans
Shooting approaches to minimums
with rain on the windshield
I should do justice to my brothers,
the ones who first ventured
not mope around all day on the ground
like a hawk minus feathers,
lost and demented.
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to Sky Pilot
Poetry
