Flight
From 10,000 feet
And ascending
A rock quarry
Reminds me of my middle
A hole meticulously scooped out
In search of precious pebbles
An inverted Mayan temple
At its pinnacle
A tiny mirrored pool
Full of earthy minerals
Reflecting light and sky
In the midst of dirt and rock
And manmade machines
That carry once buried bits away
But all that welled up water
Must be worked around
Cannot be ignored
Smooth and glassy
Occasionally rippled by wind and weather
Blue and beautiful
Born of steadfast immovability
sometimesihatemycat 
This is beautifully done.
The rock quarry was quite beautiful from 10,000 feet. And, it proved a decent distraction from my fear of certain death. :-). Thanks for reading. BTW, your “ghost” writing was beautiful…sometimes I feel quite ghost-like.
You describe it so that I might have been there. Perfect.
Although certain death was clearly only a perception. What were the circumstances that made you so convinced of your demise?
And thank you. I am glad you liked Ghost. And I am sure you are delightful flesh and blood rather than a pale apparition
I am nearly convinced, each time I fly, that my demise is imminent. It’s a “little” anxiety I have. But I fly anyway. I figure the first time I give in to it, I am truly done for, in the “not living my life” sense. So I board the plane each time acutely aware of the fragility of life and how much I love it…even the messes.