Janet Fricke Combs

Airline travel used to be a thrill;
A luxury. You dressed up for the ride.
Your flight attendant worked with cheerful skill—
Behaving like a docent or a guide
To this sky-journey. Magical! Profound!
That we may soar while sitting in a chair,
And dine and drink as if on solid ground.
Now people board as if it’s not that rare
To move so many miles above the land.
We shut the window screens to wonder now.
It’s commonplace and ordinary, bland;
Reduced to bus-trip status, lacking “wow.”
But I grip tight my husband’s hand and sigh,
Astonished every single time I fly.