III-Hand Over


Hand Over
The black box
The accident recorder
That served its purpose
In deep sea
Almost intact
The recording once heard
Written down
And archived
Memorized imperfectly
Becomes marmite
Treacle to the soul
Oily seepage
That rather than greasing
Cogs and wheels
To greater heights
Inventions moving on
Intelligence to improve
Slick like
Slip like
Banana skin
Black ice
And skating over carefully
Forget the glisten and the glide
The freedom and the flow
When those around will help
And that barriers do protect
With gates for reasons
And seats to rest
And the black box must be
Has to be and  is with
The pilot…                                                                                                                                                where it belongs

This entry was published on November 8, 2017 at 10:59 pm. It’s filed under Promote yourself, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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