Cleveland
Cleveland is down there,
thirty-six thousand feet below,
says the pilot.
But I don’t see Cleveland.
I see blue-grey Ohio haze.
Pink afternoon clouds
in the late afternoon
sunlight.
It’s 3 days before Christmas.
I’m flying east, the mid-west
quickly giving way to the
east coast.
I look again for Cleveland…
I see the Lake –
but no Cleveland.
I think that God is a lot like Cleveland.
Tough to spot sometimes,
but probably there.
For five or ten minutes,
religion makes sense.
Ed's end of the planet books 
U r such a good writer!
Nancy Fitzgerald, SSJ Director of Alumni and Special Programs St. Martin de Porres School 2300 West Lehigh Ave. Philadelphia., PA 19132 215-223-6872 x409
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Thank you for your kind words, Nancy. And now if you will excuse me, Barnes and Noble are on the phone requesting another truckload of my books be sent over…
Since you referred to the deity in your poem I just wanted to let you know that I have changed religions. The religion which I have chosen is called LUCK.