Travels Across Time

Scattered across a full plane we move like the city lights of San Francisco everything is moving, everyone is talking even nothingness, even time. From the sky it is as if we are all just birds here on some foreign flight, time zones teasing us across this winding maze, an incomplete puzzle skimming across the tarmac. Suitcases are wheeled across the dark, moving as always. Preoccupied, disconnected this world turns too fast to wonder— if birds even know of foreign or if they know it all too well.