Across the grace filled atmosphere are waves
of clouds like tiles in the desert clay.
They have their own geography with caves
and canyons made of stratus smears. We play
among the azure halls like sailing ships
to unknown shores where Fate will take our hand
and call us well beloved because we grip
horizons well beyond our sight and land.
We aviators dare the miles above
in daring dances with the clouds we love.
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