I imagined flight number nine-o-nine arriving at gate number ten as I heard the jet engines roar above my relaxing head. I couldn't help but curiously wonder what being cabinized with one hundred or more other people feels like, at a multitude of distant miles high up within the sculptures of clouds.
A mere experience I've yet to delve into for fears beyond my imaginations eye. I know they can be safer than a car they travel faster than a speeding train when they are up they usually stay up and when they come down you know that too. The approach of either is what I hear is tough of course then comes lovely turbulence. I think I know why I don't fly.
Well, know you know why I don't plan on flying again. I have these same fears and flying did nothing to alleviate any of them. Turbulance is the worst. At least if a car engine stalls you have a pretty good chance of surviving. Great poem, Gloria!
Glen Hope, PA USA