Pilot

Dressed in your uniform,
scarf and goggles,
I hear you sighing
a steady confidence
over the airwaves.
This aluminum cabin
carries the stalest oxygen
and the oddest people:
a walrus-skinned woman,
a cauldron-bellied businessman,
two lovers plucked from
a glamour magazine.
Your voice guides the clouds,
directs the winds,
calms cautious hearts.
Your plane is the only place
I ever drink tomato juice.
This stewardess is older
than her wrinkles and less pleasant
than her perfume suggests.
We all fly in at different speeds,
you know.
Even if we are on the same plane.