Made a guess at hearing the plane you were on leaving across the sea overhead
as I looked up from my balcony breadcrust
with your home emptied of your books,
and clothes, as my books gather dust
and wardrobe hangs like lead,
moth-eaten with wanderlust.
I guess you’re halfway done with here
and halfway done with there
as, like you say, 
it doesn’t feel like home”
like someone who needs space from what’s coming and what’s gone.
Every explorer needs an evening sat on the sofa.
Every malcontent needs a laugh.
Every day needs adventure.
Every squeaky clean pop star needs a bath.
Everyone waiting for something.
Some have the wherewithal to force it.
Some join the circus wearing their lucky ring
as others stay put and frame their face in a photofit.
As your imageinary plane overhead
flew away, way away today
all this came to mind
as brain cells keep thoughts under lock and key by self-imposed aviation design
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Author: aprettykettleofpoetry
