Riding the crosswind to a bump and a thud
I think excitement while old ladies cross themselves
Elated to touch the tarmac again
One leg to home

Herds of do-good well wishers clamour for any ear to incline
Talking but saying nothing of value outside of the circle
Who listens to such a wind

Waiting for nothing is akin to playing a stringless guitar
Nails across a blackboard in my soul as the tv senselessly drones on
Power is rude Doc

up and wishing to be down
rest hides far behind my eyes
much to do with little time to spare
my body cries out for reserves long exhausted
time t