Why I Love Long Flights

Let’s get the obvious out of the way.

The pangs of travel, airports, and long flights are aplenty.

The long line,

the average wine,

a baby’s cry,

the crack of your skin that is dry.

You’re trying to sleep,

then another child weeps,

finally, a hush,

broken with the sound of the toilet flush.

Continuous weep,

as you once again force yourself to sleep,

forgetting your ice cream served hours ago that melts,

you’re then admonished to fasten your seat belts.

An unlikely dreamless sleep,

broken by the sound of more weeps,

the turbulence outside,

rattles the mind inside.

That passenger who passive-aggressively wrestles for your armrest with a look,

The dim person you think, but not as dim as the faint light above, that’s not enough for a book.

You still find yourself in a daze,

wandering minds and the lingering gaze.