I hope they
find when life’s complete
that I’m not
in an airline seat
Snuggly wedged
while I’m inbound
with little
pretzels crumbs around,
My fear is
real, it’s not a joke
sitting there
with half a Coke
Wings askew
and tail all bent
no clue
where my luggage went
I’d rather
walk, though I’d be late
getting to
the pearly gates.
1 comment:
Saint Peter will still greet you there, He’d know your writings anywhere!
Post a Comment