Whirling
· One min read
Are those devils or dervishes dancing on my wingtips?
I can't deny a certain...
Beauty...
To it all;
Grace is not found in riveted
Planes of steel—
Even the birds register disapproval,
But perhaps its in a lonely red dot
Awash amidst gray and white,
Or maybe, yes, certainly
In the majesty of suspension while
Earth rolls 'round and 'round.
