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