The Primary

The Primary

Gary, was that madness,

when you lent me your primary?

Just sticks and fabric, sealed with dope

Held together by sinews of steel.

Exposed, I sat under a man made wing.

Winched up into the dawn sky

by a simple car pulled rope.

Barely higher than the tree tops

I soared amongst angels,

though it was the kindness of your trust

that was the most angelic of them all.

(A primary is a simple, one man glider, used mostly in the early part of the twentieth century).




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