No matter the place or time of year
once situated on a plane,
one thing is inevitable;
(I don't mean to complain)...
but why does this always happen?
Can someone tell me please?
Why the person next to me
begins to cough and sneeze?
If they 're not in the adjacent seat
they're assuredly in nearby rows.
I see the microbes taking aim
and landing in my nose.
I am vulnerable and angry.
"What can you do?" my husband asks.
"Although it might look odd," I say,
"next time we'll wear some surgeon masks!"
As we transition to Spring, it seems as though the flu, colds of every sort and generally yucchy stuff need to make their last hurrah. Nowhere is this more evident than when I am trapped on a plane and the inevitable happens.
Is it only me? Any stories out there?
My first illustrated collection of poems is available for purchase.