Red Sky at Night

Evening flight

when sun-ripened wind holds its breath

and hawks lift their wings in praise

to spiral godward on thermals 

that steeple the sky with heat

And, dad, fleet of faultless joy

lifts off the grass runway to soar

with the gulls and swifts

in cirrus swirls of pink and crimson pilots’ delight.

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Thanks for writing!
Jacqueline