Something About Sandy

I’m on a plane, last flight across
the Atlantic before a hurricane
extended weekend. The rows
overcrowded with those hoping
to make it home rather than face
another night on a hostile hotel
mattress. Some tourists hurry,
anxious mates, hesitant to board
but not willing to waste a
well planned vacation. My mind
typically a looped reel of stock
footage (engines falling, mislaid
flight plans leading to midair collisions)
is strangely serene. The turbulent
air offsets eternal anxieties but
I know I’ll still wake up tomorrow.

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