The clear blue sky, speckled and spotless,
A jet cruises, leaving a white trail behind.
As it moves farther, farther away,
It paints a scar on the endless blue.

Majestic in flight, never turning back,
The white trail fades as it drifts on.
She, too, cruised away,
And if only the pain she left
Could vanish like that fleeting trail,
I’d finally know what a good day feels like.