On a Brisk Summer Evening
On a brisk summer evening,
I was sitting on my couch,
Watching the television
With my windows open.
Distracted for a bit,
I turned my head to look
Upon the clouds,
Noticing a flock of jets
Stream through the sky,
Leaving clouded fumes
In their passing,
Looking like comets
Trailing down the horizon
Toward the sunset.
I turned my head back toward the TV,
And I saw the planes again,
Flying over where I had just been looking,
Repeating what I had just seen
With someone else's commentary
And context—
As if I were viewing
Someone else's dream.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
