One
Flight attendant flitters up and down
The cramped aisle.
His shiny shaved skull and sweaty upper brow
Reflect his frustrations.
I drag my bulky bag back to the front to check it
Since the overheads deny it entrance.
The man reaches past three tired passengers
To grab my bag.
“You can return to your seat now,” he says contemptuously.


Two
Flight attendant sashays slowly down
The immaculate aisle.
Her perfect ascot and slick, shiny bun
Let us know
She knows
That she rules this plane.
Youthful yet confident,
The sprightly stewardess serves each passenger:
“Would you like a beverage or some complimentary peanuts?”


Three
Flight attendant paces through
The peaceful aisle of the red-eye flight.
Her patient eyes and practiced hands
Show us that she cares.
Her weary eyes and wrinkled hands
Show us that she needs a break.
But she needs the money—
The people.
“Yes, I can bring you an extra blanket,” she smiles.



I am not a flight attendant.
But I am these three.
Blood rushes to my face when patience fails—
A quick retort,
A rude remark.
Ego excels when power’s put in my hands.

I’m in control.

I’m faking ferociousness.
People provide validation.

I am needed.

I run to get extra blankets.
I am not a flight attendant.
But like the roaring planes that see the world,
We each have different destinations,
But we all have 2 wings, a pilot,
Emergency exits, and landing wheels.