# Poem for Air Travel The air up there will dry you out. The noise will fatigue you. Put on your seat belt. Stand there— no, not here, there— And no, the recycled air will not carry any birdsong. No, the water will not quench your thirst. Some simple reminders, then, to ward off despair: This too shall pass. The machinery of it, like so many sophisticated ants, and that steel can fly!— and how from up here the highways as they turn to roads turning to paths— little purple veins on the calf of her— so many of us— such a bright scar— But all I've really found that helps is to remember the soul can't travel this fast. So amidst the rush and excitement, if you do anything, lean on a tree—when you can— and breathe fresh air. Thank the ancestors who bless your safe arrival. Beg forgiveness for your complaints. Pray the burning is worth it.