A jet plane flew over!
That never happens.
Where I lived before,
it always did. And so
for a moment's vibration
and thrill, I found me
transported: just like
a kid in one of those
big blocky seats, up
there. Which soon
enough shrink
to confinement
too small.
I was in another garden,
some way to the West,
in a time of sunlit fall,
and praying by reflex
the plane would not stall.
So far they have all
stayed up, and gone on
to wherever they'll land.
Not a single
dropped ball.
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