at three miles up
ahead of our approach
clouds lie below
in lakes and ponds,
captive in still water
then morph to rippled
mercury from overhead

at four miles up
there is a gathering
of shapes and streaks
that overlay
emerging spring
and new sown crops
in game board green
and brown

at five miles up
the cotton candy skeins
and contrails loop
their downy shards,
above a layer
of pillowed white

at six miles up
we climb to leave
some windy bumps
from storms well masked
by gray, swept into
comb tracked dips

at seven miles up
there is a view of
earth again, at dusk,
our flight path is a
well lit layer.
we chase the sun
and distant clouds
between the deep blue
dome of space above
and purpling land below

_________________________
I wondered if a poem would come on this flight. it did. For day 24 of NaPoWrimo 2014