Poet On Holiday; Chapbook 15

Flights 

Prized cattle herded here and there,

Paperwork and passports,

Checked and Processed,

Race to the gate.

Get personal with your seat neighbours,

And run down the road,

Mocking the pilot,

Did not know we were driving.

Hours in the sky,

Landing like a bouncing rock,

Heat slapping you on the way out,

This is the start of the holiday.

-Ellis Wells 

Available on Amazon for kindle.