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"Drifting" by Joe DiMino

I am no licensed aviator;
And yet,
I have sense of rising…
And aloft—held there
Between clouds and sun
Affixed, one side shaded
And the other overdone;

Oh to be as rotisserie!
Then I could turn in air,
Adjust my speed—
Find mellow warmth;
Automation to suite,
Plug me in—my floating socket—
My dial settings clearly written
For comfortable drifting—
Till I break,
Or an eclipse,
Or the current sun
From his orbits
Flies….


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