Time for Liftoff

Ground beneath
once solid
now swirling
dissolving –
gritty eddies
of sand…

Would be
a desert storm
if not standing
at water’s edge;
nothing for it
but to leap
take a risk
and fly…

(This poem first appeared here as Flying Fish, in 2016. Now edited and retitled for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: swirling. Image my own.)