Flying just above the trees
sails luff in the gentle breeze,
dinky toy cars on highway one,
windows sparkle in rising sun.
Gravel pit is a child’s sand box,
Mount Richardson, a pile of rocks,
tide is out in Davis Bay.
It’s worth whatever I had to pay
A peaceful, quiet way;
forget BC Ferries and traffic flow –
I’d rather fly low.
©2016 Sharron R. McMillan