He walks through the meadow
Strums fingertips on light
He enters his spaceship
Picks music for the flight
He takes off for peaceful
Hits buttons, clock dials turn
He waits for the best part
“Not overly concerned”
Mandolin rings
Summer space thing
Falls like leaves
Staying glow
Ocean foam greets the shore
Specular sand waves hands
To dance on the high wire
To breeze on the bight of the line
Mandolin sings
Summer space thing
Change like leaves
Soon they’ll know
He flys with the moon dust
Hums classics and obscure
He heads where he’s headed
Someone, something pure
He rolls down the windows
Invites the tranquil air
He lands in the backyard
Beats morning by a hair
this is your life chuck johnson 