At six miles in the sky nothing seems real.
Clouds become landscapes; mountains and hills blowing by you at 600 mph
The earth, once friendly and solid becomes distant and quiet
nothing but a half forgotten dream.
To dance above the birds is strange
to look down into the sky is surreal

Godlike on my aluminum wings,
I am king of the sky, I am emperor of the clouds
But this cramped economy class throne does not suit me so well,
disgruntled I turn from the window and fall back to sleep.

AcB 9.11.00