©2017
A paramotor pilot
Runs across the field
With a motor on his back
A wing above his head
A world waiting to be seen
And I run into trouble the same way
I have climbed into the unwashed skies
But with eyes closed
Head on a pillow
Trying to rest
After I’ve given away
My legacy
For naught
My wings are tied to my past
If I let go
I may not fly
But I might walk away