Midnight Flight 277

Sitting on the hard gray chairs
Staring at the worn blue rug
They call my late night flight
"Flight 277 now boarding
Handicapped and parents with small children"
I wait a little longer
My comfortably sneakered feet tapping
As a young mother picks up her red cheeked toddler
And bustles towards the quickly forming line

Cars, bright signs, people, buildings
Turn into pale color pinpricks hardly noticeable
The city disappear under our great shadowed wings
The night is peaceful, dark to the extreme
Inside small overhead lights
Create soft orange halos over the passengers
Who have chosen to spend their time reading
I too wear my halo
Though no book rests in my hand

Hours pass in long and leisurely strides
I doze, I gaze, I think of you
Then suddenly as if out of a fantasy
The pinpricks I have grown so accustomed to
Transform into men waving bright glowing lights
Led by these men, the plane touches down
And we come to an unhurried halt
The people around me collect their bags
And hasten to where you are waiting for me.