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Plane Poem
August 16, 2010
The air smells like chicken
I hear lots of finger lickin'
On both my sides are elbows
Which have their cons and pros
A guy with a big cart taps me on the shoulder
He looks to be 25, maybe a bit older
He offers me a drink
But he doesn't have lemonade that's pink
Drinks cost too much dough
So I just look out and watch the clouds below
I think there's only two more hours
I hope to be greeted by sunshine and not showers
And when they finally land this plane
I hope the air smells like a minty candy cane
© Erin T., Wichita, KS
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