First Afternoon

Cessna sighs dips its wing tips along the seams,
where the cross hatch tightens towards Plymouth.

Seeing shadows finally filled morphing into 
the cloud overhead and hinting at a return.

I felt dejected, a fixed point against the dipping tone
as propellors beat against the haze.

The shame in paying for this afternoon again,
mother watched me watching on the lawn.

Still, wanting it to never change as I too first felt
changed by not wanting it to change.