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Poetry Pleases: Under The Flight Path

But oh, on that day,
That day
When one of those man-made miracles
Brought you across the world to me...

There is romance in the air in this poem by Sandra Mills.

Relentlessly reverberating,
Wrenching open the dawn sky
They bombard the sleeping city
Like blowflies
Hatching from putrefied flesh.

Rasping on the last vapours
Of desperate fuel
Droning, they descend
Trailing umbilical cords of paraffin pollution,
Killing the cacophony of cackling kookaburras
With the birthing moan of their wheels.

Six o’clock alarm clock
Precise, pernicious pests
Cutting through the curfew
Vibrating the windows
Shuddering the ground
In their vulturous vortices.

But oh, on that day,
That day
When one of those man-made miracles
Brought you across the world to me...

My anxious antennae
Alert for the first tell-tale tingle
Of heraldic joy,
A celebratory burst
Energising the lethargic sky.

The sudden silver glint
Of sheer, sumptuous symmetry,
Absolute power
Thrusting against space and time,
Gliding graciously with awesome ease.

Tipped wings taut with anticipation
Triumphant lights winking in recognition
Dangle the Dunlops! Whee!
Join the party!

Ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts
Although the weather is drizzly and unclear
It is THE most glorious day today
The first plane into Sydney is almost here.

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