From far away L.A. became an eye,
a riddle a grid but never blinking.
It stayed in my sight until I was
so far up that the brim of earth
gave way to the far off dawn.
No need to flap my wings and
no need for air. For I was
apart from life, so removed from
the rock and the water that I closed
my eyes leaning back against
the void lifting me higher, higher.
I was far from the need of history,
far from reminders and whistles
and bells. Far from the babies
and bombs and tourist erosion.
A transmission crackled through, faintly.
I adjusted a valve, wiped
debris from the glass.