The downward spiral

I love flying.
So, moving head on into clouds,
grimly dark although,
(with a gathering sense
of undeniable deja vu)
stood for progress
and fleeting objects I crossed
were smugly tagged as fancy milestones
that others were denied.


But the illusion of progress
was diluted initially and disturbed later
when my own tail emerged
in the corner of my eye.
For, when you are suspended
in a viscous, slow moving and shrinking vortex,
your next milestone can only be
having your tail between your teeth.