Up then down

First, you hear the sky hum
and know to look up
for the starlet pinpoints,
Tinsel blinks in our infinity sky. 

These navigated escapes
from the pantomime
are full of that sense of flee,
the jetfuel seriousness of a Monday morning. 

Up where minds loosen, semi-numbed
the birds see our boxes for what they are,
a controller grid
of vague satisfactions and their crumbs. 

They're floated by the same breeze 
that spirals perfume around me,
Vapours of familiarity
Summer spirits and their echoes.

Lastly, you feel the tyres bump
and know to look down
to find yourself again,
lessened, breathing still.