Contrails Poem by Morgan Michaels

Contrails



Contrails- east to west or south to north
arching heaven like disbanding dreams-
how like dreams, from engines jetted forth
so clearly etched, in tightly coiled streams
till meeting the conditions of the sky
they chill, lose steam, unravel, run awry
at last, to utter, vapid dissolution
like once-new dreams to turgid disillusion
and where they meant to go, no longer may-
though following them backward to their flu
we know, of course, what they once meant to say
and what, of course, they once had meant to do
and marvel that it ever came to pass:
such clarity dissolved to merest gas.

Monday, September 4, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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