Flying Blind – Nighttime Airlines
Twenty six thousand feet, or is it twenty seven thousand
I’ve lost track, but it really doesn’t matter anymore
Window seat in row seventeen, crowded flight, late at night
Seatbelt fastened, back straight, eyes surveying
Tray table in the upright and locked position
Cabin lights dimmed, except the seat belt sign
And the blue glow of the Wi-Fi indicator and no smoking
Surrounded by the weary soldiers of the long haul
Sleeping giants of industry lounge in first class
Up and comers sit further back, awaiting their turn
Silver leads to Gold and then Platinum and Diamond
Adding up the miles, the segments, and the airports
Departure gate warned the flight would be late
Another hotel forecasted on my horizon
Maybe the jet stream will give a little lean
The hours passing slowly steal awakened energy
Heads nod, bob, and slowly come to rest
Comfort is a foregone conclusion, sleep fitful, but something
And yet unconsciousness is the obvious escape from the night
Novels with folded pages and their characters are forced to wait
Spreadsheets, presentations, and charts become fuzzy
Tired eyes, heavy with the day’s baggage give up the fight
Nighttime airlines, the nondescript brand on any given day
The line of portals that masquerade as windows present ideas
More like raising questions or creating imagination fuel
Watching without expectations, only to pass more time
Darkness slips by in a constant current with nary a break
Atmospheric clouds and their unevenness the only variation
Stars, if the night is right, offer tiny reminders of the daylight
But not tonight, for the ghosts of winter have filled the void
Down below, where the lucky ones are resting in soft comfort
Snowflakes swirl and dance in the competing gusts
Unseen in the high clouds, yet waiting patiently for touchdown
Accumulating another obstacle between here and there
Boredom and roaming eyes cast upon the crowd of solitude
Watching the watcher is often someone very small
Long hours have passed since their scheduled time of rest
Instead their clocks are still ticking and they scan and scan
Mothers keeping watch whilst battling the fatigue of the day
Engines drone loudly enough to remind us of our plight
Racing at the speed of business, or family, or life
Stuck here together on this endless nighttime flight
Why we choose this life I really cannot say
Flying at night, working each day, earning our pay
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Nicely rendered Ralph, I’m not a fan of flying but interstate is OK; in fact I’m on one next week. Its the long haul international flights that are killer. 15 hours is the longest stretch I’ve experienced, as I try to make stop overs to break it up. Absolutely horrid, as I just can’t sleep sitting up and can’t afford 1st class. There’s nothing romantic about flying, just another bus with wings. A great post as to the reality of flying. Cheers!
Very vivid descriptions, Ralph. I sensed the feeling of being in the plane, the cool air pumping in, sound of the engines, it is all there and you did it well. I used to fly a lot and miss it. Very enjoyable read. Great work.
So vividly written Ralph..when we travel home to India, the flight takes almost 16 hours with one transit stop..With a little daughter, the journeys are nightmares..I do think of people who have to spend a good part of their time in planes, for work or business and I wonder how they keep sane..I really enjoyed reading your very descriptive write..Thank you so much for sharing..
I was actually on a plane when I wrote this piece – flying home after an 18 hour work day but too wired to be able to sleep.
Good grief, Ralph. Do you ever find time to sleep?
Brings back memories of flights to my home country. It must have been a tedious journey but still you penned this vividly expressive poem. Great write.
This was almost perfect. I am not a good flyer but when I do it usually starts in the nighttime and ends at the dawn of daybreak. The descriptions for each type of flyer was fantastic, from the businessman to the tired mom trying to keep their kids quiet and seated. Nice work Ralph.~Paul
I spend many hours on planes for my day job and find myself always observing people and their dynamics on the flights
Hmm, I did read and comment on this earlier but I must not have hit “post comment.” Good free form poem. I hate flying but do a 4 1/2 hour flight to visit my youngest so about every second year. I guess it gets easier the more you do it, especially if your job requires it.