Pilot




the rumble of the jet
made her remember her childhood
dream of being a pilot
her tiny girl imaginings in a long forgotten
dance class when the teacher said dance what
you want to be when you grow up a pilot
she shouted out as she crouched on the worn
hard wood of the studio floor and when the music began
off she flew among the wavering flowers and delicate
fairy queens of her fellow dance mates soaring past mirrors
and barres winding through trees and along rivers she peered over
her open cockpit noting nothing but free air as she drifted and settled while
the music slowed to a single note and then to silence
her adult mind conjured up the scene set before the pilot of
the rumbling jet flying overhead in the dark early hours of the night picturing
the expanse of the night sky that must have presented itself to the captain of the flight
and she was sure that she also saw the darkness of the heavens littered with stars and studded with
clouds as she once again thought she peered out of an open cockpit of a soaring airplane
©Karen Casady2019




Comments

  1. Cheriee WeichelApril 4, 2019 at 11:50 AM

    Your poem makes my heart sing. Especially this,
    "she flew among the wavering flowers and delicate
    fairy queens of her fellow dance mates soaring past mirrors
    and barres winding through trees and along rivers she peered over
    her open cockpit noting nothing but free air"

    ReplyDelete

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