A Moving Viewpoint

[a poem inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt, View]


A Moving Viewpoint

The view from below is gray,
damp and drizzly,
the atmosphere telling us
to go back to the house,
stoke the fire,
and snuggle in until the weather is better.

The view from inside is plastic,
well-lit and unchanging,
the loudspeakers telling us
that dog teams are on duty today,
and that liquids and gels
are restricted in our carry-on bags.

The view from above is bright,
the unhindered sun shining,
the brilliance telling us
to keep sailing
over the billows of
the white cotton horizon.