Day 197 of the 365 day poem challenge.
Word of the day fuselage meaning: "the main body of an aircraft."
Transit Lounge
The tall windows
Stare back at me and in them
I see my reflection
A young boy runs up to the Windows
A battle weary mother at his side
He jumps up and down and exclaims with the only words he knows
I think there must be a word for this excitement
He stares out at the nose of the plane, it's great white fuselage
and the wings
His arms fidget and he points
As if it's impossible to describe the majesty of what he sees
There is wonder
Nothing is mundane to him
This is the discovery of flight
This is the discovery of the giant
And indecipherable
This is the discovery of the modern
The boy jumps about and takes his leave
Then calls his father near to him
Gesturing frantic and wild
With a smile a wingspan wide
The boy's father smiles
I find myself smiling too
Suddenly I recall where I am
In this great fortress that we made
That somehow belongs to them
Maybe they are alive
Maybe these great birds that beat us
Deserve more respect
The boy goes
It is time to board
Time to fly.
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