The Fifth Year

I see these missles in the sky, whose payload is people.

leaving behind a trail that goes back to forever.

I look up and watch them go by on their way,

thinking, wishing it were me up there,

riding in that great metal tube, to where it goes.

Of course it goes home, to the land of salmon

(or perhaps the ‘rivers of salmon’) because that’s where i want to go.

A magnet of sorts draws me in this missle, the strongest magnet.

The reason i wish so hard that every passenger is me,

thinking, knowing that soon it will be.

For too long have i been away from there,

even though every day i talk and miss,

knowing that this day is one day closer.

It seems so long and yet the payoff is worth

every day without, because of the anticipated reunion.

Today, however, i do regret to miss.

I hope to not miss many, and for the ones so far my sorry’s.

And thanks that they exist at all, excitement for those to come.

Trust that i will be in my own missile soon,

leaving another trail back to forever.


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