High Cotton
(After Harry Stewart Jr. Tuskegee Airmen in training in Tuskegee, Alabama, 1940s)
By David Mills
On high, Harry acclimated his flaccid
ascot to the direction of the heavens
to the earth’s withering dimensions.
On high, slow as a Collie’s rough-coated
tail smearing a dusty road, either Harry’s
craft or the land seemed to worm
backwards. Sweltering Alabama
afternoons when diddly’s to-do list was
the one thing on that mutt’s agenda.
Harry cottoned to that pooch’s take on things.
Because for Harry, joy and flying were
like sitting on top of the world. Twice.
(After Harry Stewart Jr. Tuskegee Airmen in training in Tuskegee, Alabama, 1940s)
By David Mills
On high, Harry acclimated his flaccid
ascot to the direction of the heavens
to the earth’s withering dimensions.
On high, slow as a Collie’s rough-coated
tail smearing a dusty road, either Harry’s
craft or the land seemed to worm
backwards. Sweltering Alabama
afternoons when diddly’s to-do list was
the one thing on that mutt’s agenda.
Harry cottoned to that pooch’s take on things.
Because for Harry, joy and flying were
like sitting on top of the world. Twice.
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