(1958 - / Lancashire / England)

Sky Writing

Things fall apart. Across a summer sky
the emblematic Coca Cola script
above the uproar, miles long, a mile high

dissolves like cirrus before the squinting eye,
until all that’s left’s a vaporous postscript.
Things fall apart. Across a summer sky,
once, subtler heavenly signs might testify

foreshadowing the end of Rome or Egypt.
above the uproar, miles long, a mile high.
That titanium on blue could edify…
there’s a lofty riddle to decrypt.

Things fall apart. Across a summer sky
now wind-drift pulls the letters all awry
the pilot banks, the plane signs off, wings tipped
above the uproar, miles long, a mile high.

See how the characters emulsify
into the blue, now vacuous, nondescript.
Things fall apart. Across a summer sky
above the uproar, miles long, a mile high.

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Comments (1)

This poem is three years old but it is still fresh and relevant. I'm sure you meant us to see Yeats's poem from 1939 with his much darker prophecies of things falling apart because THE CENTRE WILL NOT HOLD. You are writing in a new era, the dangers he saw have (hopefully) passed, and the vision you guide us to see is benign, even lovely and the whole situation is suffused in good humor. I craned my neck to look upward, the sun flashed into my eyes, but it was worth the momentary discomfort to see this gentle vision of fleeting beauties.