Like Larks, Planes Sing Prodigiously

Pale blue plane climbs by,
limns line on wide white clouds
spread out of soft blue hills’
white rock, while pale light high
and silent shines. Uncrowded
bright horizon’s still
till high-pitched hum comes down.

Soul, satisfied, replies,
soft sigh drifts up to sound
blue emptiness of sky
where plane went, loathe to stay
too low. Where’s plane away to?
Matters not. Long after,
heart still hears its laughter.