Floodlight, Headlight, Moonlight, Goodnight

I'm lifting my eyes from the cold concrete.
Rising over the horizon like the sunlight.
Cruising altitude has been obtained.
Don't dropp me now.
I'm going home.
Burning up on reentry.
I feel something shifting.
There's a change being made.
The fire washes away that which was.
I'm numb to the flames.
Loss of feeling.
Loss of life.
Loss of self.
I should have seen it coming.

poem by Seth Proch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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