The atmosphere is at its thinnest
just before the dawn
and the sky is low
and light
and soft blue haze and distant glow
and strangely warm

in this herewhen
where the air is at its thinnest
where hyperbole ventilated
dances like faeries in ring a roses
where whispers blow as hurricanes eye
blinking, winking vapours
and waiting for a window
to stare through with longing
sleep remains
closed rhythmic beeps

and in this empty plain
so vast and flat and kissed and touching
between these blurring worlds
pre-flight checks
a butterfly effect
a man dreaming
a metamorphosis
and where breathing is at its thinnest
making hair curl foetal flash fizz
adrenal ash
strangely warm

and the radio crackles
with the adolescent sun’s exploding acne
between these stations far from static
moving rambling imagery
on eddies of stardust bobbing
for knowledge apples
erratic

and in the heavens
a returning friend awaits green light
to come visit, to dock and tether
tenterhook and collect
somewhere under the gulf stream
in mid-atlantic
in a squall of mathematics
truth answers
and a countdown starts
where breath is at its thinnest
just before the longest day

trip