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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014


From the aerodynamic envelope
She tumbled without a clue
Compass spinning wildly
No guide as to what to do

Wings ripped off now following her down
Fluttering and spinning like a pair of severed pin feathers

A cloud of atomized fuel
Like a pale contrail
Going the wrong direction
Marking the spot like an exclamation point
But with nobody around to see
Swallowed into the inky darkness

Not a trace
To mark the place
Where she now lays her head