The birds are migrating east,
never too far from their nest,
My flight is delayed,
Oh, how i want to be in the sunshine state!
The satellites receptive of the storm,
the thunder struck, and the winds howled
I'm stuck in a worried airport,
my mind is trailing off,
Finally i am on the plane,
Only 5000 miles away
2 comments:
Hey. I like your poem. I like the weather and the hospitality in the South. Yah I like Kentucky or Tennesse. I like how you ponder about going home and traveling.
I like how everything kind of correlates into the next stanza "thunder struck...I'm struck" "birds...my flight"
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