Flight 93

by Michael Burch
April 1, 2004

I held the switch in trembling fingers, asked
why my existence felt so small, so purposeless,
like a minnow wriggling feebly in my grasp…

Vibrations of huge engines thrummed my arms,
as glistening with sweat, I nudged the switch
to OFF… I heard the Klaxon shrill alarms

like vultures shrieking earthward, in a stall …
we floated… earthward … wings outstretched, aghast…
like Icarus… as through the void we fell…

‘til nothing was so beautiful, so blue…
so vivid as that moment… and I held
an image of your face, and dreamed I flew

into your arms. The earth rushed up. I knew
such comfort, in that moment, loving you.