AugPoWriMo 18

No idea where we are 
I turn toward the window 
there a bank of cloud 

tells me we are returning 
the landscape below 
insignificant unseen 

bathed in daylight 
filtered through us 
diving beneath we see 

little illumination 
squares of green brown 
roads lead to houses 

some trees stretch boundaries 
others must be torn down 
for this desolate arcadia

to be within reach 
all distinguishing features 
the same eliminated 

monotonous mountains 
leveled by creatures in air 
diving again as always to earth