flights

the furnace burns
and dies

i crawl in my hole
flights of fancy begin
blues and greens
yellows and reds
the cock crows
the hen lays her egg
scramble-scramble
the farmer tills the land
the son milks the cow
the wife bakes the pie
the daughter gathers the laundry

fly high
fly low
past clouds
past mountain tops
over oceans
over continents
from here
to there
and back
then round again
go through all the clichés
lost and found
found
then lost

i crawl in my hole
this is where I belong