A List Poem

Written in Janell's class last Monday:

My Longest Plane Trip So Far

Packing proceeds smoothly,
I find everything I seek
after remembering everything I might need.
I am calm and optimistic --
no headache, no indigestion troubles me.

The airport shuttle comes
precisely when promised,
blue paint gleaming in the sun.

My bags nearly hop aboard themselves,
so eager do they seem to travel.
The ride to the airport is smooth,
nice women converse with me
and carsickness does not dare intrude.

My bag practically checks itself in,
and I proceed through security
in a meditative state.
After locating the gate,
I buy a book of sudoku
a bottle of water
sugarless gum
and a few snacks,
then hit a candy store or bakery
for some true indulgence.

I remember more than a dozen
cross-country flights in my youth,
starting when I was small enough
to sit in the aisle and sing to myself
while the stewardesses stepped over me.

The long flight unrolls at a stately pace,
classical music
followed by an adorable comedy,
followed by an acceptable meal.
Then I use alcohol
tranquilizers
and meditation
to get somewhere close to sleep.

When I swim up to consciousness,
scrape the sleepseed out of my eyes,
and look around the cabin,
I feel comaraderie with my fellow travelers.
That sound is the landing gear descending.
That was the flaps opening.
Bump, we're back on land.
Here I am in Auckland,
en route to Sydney.
Another, much shorter, flight to go today,
but nearly there.

Being a kid who commuted cross-country
really helped build my travel muscles
for today's marathon flight.