Saturday, 24 March 2018

Getting High

Reclining seat, faint background hum
Indifferent food, white tasteless bun
The clink of drinks as bottles touch
Sky high, encased in rabbit hutch.

At times the hum becomes a roar
Pierced rain clouds hit us as we soar
In silver-coated fuselage
Protected from a lightning charge.

In darkened cabin, many sleep
Though dim-lit screens and curtains keep
A managed vigil, crew on call
On occasion, footfalls on the floor.

Mid-season, there are empty seats
But sadly lack of in-flight treats
Crossing time zones far below
The Middle East and India glow.

In Singapore, a change of plane
4 hours to waste – it’s such a shame
Buying goods holds no appeal
Most travellers read or have a meal.

Aloft once more, across deep seas
Cramped, scant room for legs and knees
I try to doze and close my eyes:
The price to pay for family ties.

Descent at last in morning sun
Being met is half the fun
Jet-lag be damned – great family smiles
To compensate for tiring miles...

(c) Poet in the woods 2018

1 comment:

  1. It all works out in the end! Great description of long-haul flights.