A lone aircraft, a propeller
plane hidden among the clouds,
briefly breaks the silence
of the August afternoon,
Even these you used
to hear more often, in
the years past; now this
is the second this summer
that I recall. Must be
the price of aviation
fuel that keeps silence
on this sky. Even the jets
from the air force base
don't break the sound
barrier anymore, rarely
come to leave contrails
that once so often
criss-crossed the blue
with childish dreams.
04.08.2024
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