Tag Archives: fear of flying

First Flight Jitters, for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 720, Aug 24, 2025

 

 

First Flight Jitters

He lingers on the runway, doing a little dance
as though he has a virus living in his pants.
Bounds right up the plane steps, wishing they were shorter,
reaches in his pocket and tips the stew a quarter.
Rugged he-man that he is, he cannot veil his terror
over the coming takeoff, for he is is no brave wayfarer.
He quavers as he finds his seat, hoping that it’s right.
Notes its number on his ticket , listed just under his flight.
His fear of flying preys on him, his hands and shoulders shaking.
The papers in his suit pocket are rustling with his quaking.
When the plane lifts off the ground, he fears that he is dying.
The next time, he will take a train. No more will he be flying,

 

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle the prompt words are: virus dance name note lingers runway rugged quaver paper prey veil wish

An Evocation

(Enlarge all photos by clicking on any photo.)

An Evocation

Your life catches in its static house.
Nothing but the lightest footfall betrays its presence.
The door to escape, the ocean’s edge,
tempts you to leave yourself and enter.
This echo of the ocean is the dove in you
that carries the message that you want to fly.

Motionless dove, I want to flush you
to the crack of sunrise—to its flower.
Forget your lone compulsions.
Leave your comfort.
Desert the logic that has frozen you.

If you could let this sick time pass,
you might grow less diverted as your distance from it grows.
Time’s ricochet might drive you to the canyon’s rim,
revealing to you that you no longer fear the fall.

The stress of guilt slows down and if you choose to let it, lags behind.
You will pass and repass it on your round journey,
until its memories finally fall away.

Time will devour your guilt, no matter how grand its scale,
revoke its sentence and set the guilty free.


This poem, much edited since I first wrote it five years ago, is a “distilled poem.” The distilled poem can have any  line length or meter, rhymed or unrhymed. The only “rule” is that each stanza must have one less line than the stanza before it.  If you want to play along, send me a link to your poem.

The prompt word today is evoke.

for the dVerse Poets Pub