Old Wings
I see you in the grasses
along the old runway
your wings are warped and weary
your tires are cracked and gray
what stories could you tell
of places you have flown
the clouds and winds before you
in sky you once did own
your fabric torn and tattered
made brittle from the sun
who's rays you once had parted
on the ground your shadow flung
your prop is split and splintered
the wood dry and near gone
your windscreen long since shattered
glazed shards some hanging on
where once you flew a million miles
'cross wood and field and plain
you played 'mong scattered cumulus
you felt the cold pure rain
I watch you for a moment
paint peeled and paled with time
I nod in silent tribute
your place will soon be mine.
