Sunday, 3 October 2010

Take off

Light-smeared grey night outside
Red and blue lights flicker by
Delicious hum of engines beneath
We wait
With slightly bated breath
'Crew to your stations for take off'
Curt voice cuts through soft tinny syrup tunes
We wait
We wait
Then ever-so-slightly the hum shifts
A roar, tiger-strength, sustained
Our craft lumps along, flexing
Rolling ends and swings to the ever-increasing
Rumble of lights flashing by
We become unstuck and lift shuddering
Into the diamond bleeding darkness
Of the night sky

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