December 2015 Competition Winner

By Cheryl A. Van Beek

Cloud pillows sleep
in sparkling mounds
as we fly through layered blankets
blue and white
like snowfall at twilight.

Babies’ cries,
all voices on the plane,
in the jet’s breath
whispering strands cottony white.

My chattering thoughts rush,
headfirst into the hush
to dream and crystalize.

Sunlight etches snow stars
in scratches on the windows.
Wind runs its fingers through clouds.
Wisps drift like flakes
sifting from a branch.

Wonder if anyone is looking up
at our snowy boot tracks
on blue blankets,
following the white contrail
we stream behind us.