The Flyer

Many friends, acquaintances really

Different places, short visits

Everything is familiar, but still, alone.

Competent mostly, but aging quickly, forgetful.

Still possessing that special something, coveted by so many and realized by few.

The ultimate expert.

Well-versed in the ways of the world

But humbled to remain silent.

Loyal, old-school, clinging to what used to be right.

Fought fearlessly for his country

Maybe even for things he didn’t believe; a patriot.

Disheartened by the perceived turn in society,

Our country, by its people’s aloofness.


Why are respect and dignity so scarce?

He wonders.

The end of his time is near, he is well aware.

Not sure what to do, where to go; no checklist.

Where do all the flyers retire?

Shrink wrapped in the desert, shoulder to shoulder, buried above ground.

Preserved in the bone yard on ready-alert.

Burdened in monotony, he spreads his weathered wings and drifts above the earth.

Gazing below at what could be, what is and what will never be.

There he finds peace.

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