I parked the old Jeep on the edge
of a small airport
Just to watch the little red plane
I could feel myself holding
on to it’s wings
being lifted from reality. Only,
I couldn’t take my
Eyes from the beauty of the mountains
and there you stood.
The beacon was lighting your
weary face so that I could see your
I dropped from my wings
and ran to you.
( writing 101 , day 10, scenery prompt)