And he saw
Those tiny lives, housed in the crooked, jagged formations of vehicles puffs of gasoline
inscrutable from such height
harmless from afar, perhaps
A tennis court half the size of his palm
empty at the moment
And he wondered what it'd be like to witness a crime from above
a simple mugging perhaps, in the narrow strip of a stringy alleyway,
man versus man
Would it really be so different from seeing the crime down below, on land? Up close?
Would he stop it then?
And the sudden dip of the plane smooths out the jarring whistle of air
The landing, the rejoining the return of reality and everyday comings and goings
A seamless blend with the glittering lights, lives.