Traveling
Traveling can be a pain,
Particularly on a plane.
You plan, you pack, you park, you wait
Until you find the proper gate.
You clutch ID and boarding pass
Then zigzag through the lines en masse,
Removing coats and belts and shoes
And pray you're not the one they choose...
A "random" check - you're patted down
By someone surly, with a frown
That's meant to let you know she's pissed
'Cause you might be a terrorist.
You make it through and grab your stuff
And find a seat. There aren't enough
So some folks stand 'til they announce
The boarding call; all flyers pounce.
The goal's to make it so your case
Will squeeze into a vacant space
And then you sit, your legs all squished -
Not quite as stress-free as you'd wished.
And yet - some time away awaits,
Well-worth whatever aggravates.
A change of scene, some treats to find
And all the humdrum left behind.
This little break is like a gift;
Your spirits get a needed lift.
The days will pass, the time will fly
And soon again, you'll surf the sky.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2016
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