Written on a flight back from Spain in August 2020
Leaving
He is leaving.
The wheels rise, still spinning,
from the brown, infertile
land. Clouds break and reveal
the sea, calmness hiding
turmoil beneath.
He closes his eyes and waits
until the mountains have passed
and the view is a patchwork
of brown and green.
His mind drifts and imagines
the time after the landing.
Tim Fellows 2020
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