Metal Birds Of Elysium

The touch-down was irascible in mood, in tone, in nascence, metal wings cutting off tree-tops; breeze became wind, wind became Kansas, swamp tips severed and strewn about, in a funnel of multi-green dust, the landing lights so resplendent, reflecting up and off the steel like the spin of an orb in circle- 'round the three suns of Saturn. Oh, Metal-Bird you sing loud, yet sweet, repetitious vibrations, so friendly your choir with your faded long stripes and bullet shot stars, red, white and blue tattooed to your chest, black hawk, I will love you forever; thank you for taking me home from the battle. FjR-MMXV