Leaving Houston...

Hunkering down as I pass under the low ceiling,
Turning sideways to get down the narrow aisle.
I wait as the woman in front of me rams and jams
Her last carry-on bag into the overhead compartment.
Moving on, I find my seat, halfway back and on the port side.
"Ask for a window and they give you a wing,"
I chuckle to myself as I place my jacket overhead.

Taking my seat and buckling the belt,
I hear the hiss of cool air being pushed through the vent over me,
A bit stale and smelling slightly of disinfectant.
The cabin is quiet yet noisy at the same time,
Each sound amplified in the silence.
Electric motors whir from the bulkheads and floor,
On again, off again from their secret places.
Muffled voices, almost whispers, can be heard:
Speaking to cell phones or the seat next to them.
The occasional cough or baby’s squeal breaks the silence.
The aircraft rocks now and then, to and fro,
Thrown baggage moving the giant avian beast.

The change of pressure in my ears tells me the cabin is sealed,
I open my mouth to find relief and look out the window.
What a strange place for a hearse, I think,
Sitting there on the tarmac with its back door open.
A shiny gray casket is slid onto a wheeled bier,
The handlers slow and deliberate in their movements.
It dawns on me that someone is making a final trip home.
They slowly move under the belly of the aircraft.
A final thud and the last compartment is closed.

Closed…. the word is ringing in my head now.
Closed…. many chapters in many lives have just closed.

My mind wanders in curiosity for a moment or two,
At my brothers and sisters here with me today.
How many of them are leaving home for the first time?
Who, like the one in the cargo hold
Is going home for the last time?
Some are just passing through, I guess.
Births, deaths, graduations and failures,
Marriages, divorces, running to something or from it,
New jobs, lost jobs, new loves, lost loves,
Or just knocking about seeing new country.
All gathered briefly in this microcosm of humanity,
In a common place with a common goal:
Simply to leave here and get there.

We begin to move away from the terminal,
Headed for the runway and the sky.
I half listen to the spiel of the flight attendant,
As she tells us all the things we will never need to know.
The sudden thrust of the engines hurls us down the runway,
One final bump, as the wheels leave the ground, and we are airborne.
Cities, towns and countryside pass far below us.
As we ascend to cruising altitude, I descend into sleep.
My thoughts return to her as I drift away.

The sudden jolt of the wheels touching down,
Startle me out of my slumber as I struggle to quickly place myself.
The roar of reversed engines slows the aircraft down.
We leave the runway and taxi towards the terminal.
Coming to a stop at the gate, people begin to shuffle about,
Gathering their belongings for departure.

A hearse is backed into place on the tarmac,
Its cargo somberly loaded before it drives away.
"Last one on, first one off," I grin to myself,
Looking at the crowded aisle before me.
"Maybe being dead ain’t so bad."