Soaring High . . . . .

snow white rockets
pierce the sky,
airborne pilots
flying high. . .

moving shapes are
smooth and tapered,
leaving trails
all long and vapored. . .

clouds of gray
are white on white,
rockets burning
day and night. . .

away to where
both ends meet,
and emptiness
becomes replete. . .

gliding down
the long low slope,
the world is their
kaleidoscope. . .

1979