Air traffic

The bird is here and we are off to wherever
those wings take us.
The atmosphere is crawling with airlines
that wind through the clouds and look down on the crowds.

Relax your back and let the noise
sing you to sleep in my arms.
If you awake before we arrive I will carry you down
and I won't make a sound.

The scent is strong as we move on
and breathe in the pristine crime scene.
The false veneer is old like a substitute
volunteer from, oh, some other year.

I'm just a show as far as I can tell,
so I paint my eyes a light green.
The silver beams are twirling and swirling
throughout your dreams like air traffic streams