Unexpected Silence

The drone of a small single engine fixed-wing
general aviation plane drew my attention upward
from my summer deck chair.
Then it stopped.
I panicked.
It drifted on in silent gliding
banking right descending into the valley.
There is a dirt landing strip down there
along the river, with a hangar and wind sock.
Miraculously the engine restarted.
It droned north low along the river.
That summer, and every summer since
this near-mishap repeats itself daily,
sometimes twice.
A test to certify pilots in trainers with kill-switch instructors;
My house must be their marker.
I watch now with new eyes this beautiful silent glide path
on the J-curve descent into proficiency.

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