Take Off

TAKE OFF Outside the windows grass swathes rotate: we sway Up and down the dozenth wide runway To reach the final launch-point for our sally. Engines whine up and down till finally Pilot gives power and our necks are pushing Back into the headrest cushion. The wheels rumble disconcertingly now, But the wing tilts up by magic - wow! Forget your mastery of lift and drag, it’s a mystery: Rumble ceases, ground drops away quickly. Immersed in fingers of foggy cloud, Like an immense cold shroud - Flying blind, ever up, till we emerge And blend into the brightness and we feel a surge Of turbulence reassure us that wings, Despite their toughness, are flexible things. Tip to port, we see ground small and slight; Tip to starboard, now the sky dazzling bright. Level off, we breathe easier, belts undone: We start cruising in the sun.