Wednesday, 18 July 2012

2143 - Wet summer from above the clouds

One of those long days. Down to Southampton
With FlyBe, bless 'em, non-refundable
Stewardesses in red dress, and the man
Camp-sounding. All then is as usual
Tried to sleep there and back with minimal
Success. The meeting was friendly. Biscuits
Supplied, thank God, as I had no lunch, well
Not unless you count a choc bar and crisps
At ten past three. New book, but read its script
By then. Nothing to do on the return
Flight, but shut eyes, and later on, marvel
At the thick white cloud masses, little bits
Of ground visible beneath, reflections
Of sunlight as wet surfaces dazzle

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