Taking Flight [Major Revision-New Title]

[billy]

Taking flight this feels like solid working title but that's just my view. overall it's an almost epic edit. it feels like you took a lot to heart but still kept your poem. [something that isn't easy to achieve]

In sundown Australia, is sundown a place or a time. if it's a time i'd suggest [at] if it's a place i'd go with [Sundown] i'd also go for[ over ] if it is a place. if not then [at sundown over Australia]
seen below, the plane is i'm finding so many ways this can work and it holds me up. where are you looking from?
a southern cross 
searching for a northern sky, i like these two lines as an image it set the darkness and adds a touch of wonder.
flashing signals
as it passes along:
red-white--red-white;
all corners of the 'craft --
and sometimes
the plane flashes
red-white-and-blue. 

Here, in long awaited sun rise, 
at the airport
where I nearly slept, does this and line above add anything to the poem
I'm now watchful to the east
for travel, and for this line perhaps could have a richer ending. a suggestion would be to pull up [opportunities] and lose [where] and add a period
opportunities where 
I may go beyond the
the Indian Ocean
to mighty Pacific seas. there is one pacific
watchful
to travel for something,
painful
the long haul, BUT
to leave and arrive
on the very same day. the last six lines weakens what came before it. and i'm not sure the repetition works well enough. make crossing the time lines and ending up in the same day have more depth

When the sun sets the same with this stanza what you say is clear but it carries to little weight
and I must go,
two days left behind where else would you leave them, [behind] is redundant. it feels a little weak. could something else be used instead of [left behind]
to international lines.
Across barren blue waste;
oceans double their size
perspective-wise 
on the way home.




------------Original--------------

Phases 

Lifestyle of day/night phases:
watchful to the east
until our sun sets
when I look to the west.
 
The plane to New York
follows east.
By the end of twenty-two hours,
I will have lost nothing,
not even a day.
 
When the plane travels
west again, I'll wonder where
two days have been.
 
A verse for starlight gazes.
Stars that I know
down south, where I live,
will reverse in New York
and return again here.
A watchful eye
to Orion's sky;
the only thing I'll recognise.
 
And now,
like clockwork,
through time-zones I go:
I'll follow planes east,
and where the planes stop,
I'll follow east further
and wind back at home.