Lift Off At Sundown

A traveling thought billowed into my mind
(I had a sad little broken-bottle life, till then)

Long beaches full of empty shells
with six-foot rattlers, so I hear
Water moccasins down there somewhere, too
Spiders and roaches. Which is worse?
Not a sidewalk at all in the county

Photos stick together in the mildew sun
Thirty-six story spacecraft under Climate Control.

No looking further than the front way out
No window washing, locking doors
Bouncing about like a shot without a sling,
My soul was on vacation, so maybe that was it.
Something took a nip and a tuck out from my life
So, I trimmed up for the season, and I sailed back home.

I know I should have taken up a life of crime
but, the threat seemed just too hollow.

I see the animations on the edge of time
The orbiters are swimming too close to the light.
We are all of us moths, when the flight seems right.