Dark patches way below like shrouds
The mist clears: barren, criss-crossed plain
Australia cries out loud - for rain.
Huge black arrows on the wing
Exit door just one row in
Reflections on the fuselage
We tip and roll – a lake looms large.
On board, this daytime Melbourne flight
Is fairly full; ear phones delight
The “guests” who nod to Smart phone app;
A baby cries and will not nap.
Virgin Oz has red-lipped crew
Who serve a sweet snack passing through
Beside me tattooed man, asleep
I gaze outside from window seat.
The engine hum reverberates
Inducing dreamy mental states
We switch off, lulled by background buzz
Our minds in neutral, as one does.
We’re barely in the air an hour
Yet vast expanses soon devour
From Adelaide - twelve hours by car
But why sweat it out so far?
(c) Poet in the woods 2018
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