A Meeting In The Glass

Ah Yes!  The days you would do this for free,

Do memories cumulous call you back?

A cool grassy windswept misty daydream,

Of fields, and of palms pressed against the glass,

Of mag checks, slips and solos, check rides passed,

A million mile contrail to here – At Last!

We meet again old friend as times before,

Pressing palms against that plexi divide,

Our squadron of yore here accounted for,

Pressing the glass upon faith’s frozen side,

Where the Mach eight four fire and ice collide,

Truth’s shock wave stalks on that long Western glide.

We are here amongst the instruments’ glow,

All of us abide in what you call you,

Final approach fix and fuel’s running low,

Yet there’s still one final check you must do,

Where you’ll meet they, and the big picture too,

And all will make sense, and all will be true.

j. Charles Dill

Copyright © j. Charles Dill 2004