two contrails drift of their own volition
what power lets them soar that I may see
patiently i watch them pass inspection
cringing at their callous effrontery
their harsh bells scream a modern buzzards’ blare
my brain hides quiet flying in the sky
scheming magic jets autograph my air
floating on the thought takes me with them high
overwhelmed their tattoos etch my welkin
spasms scarring whoever’s left take care
could it be those clouds my identic twin
left me at birth for dead, mom said a prayer
heavens gaped held her high above esteem
my first breath their gift left me this to dream.