Traveling by plane, across the main,
Sitting in coach, waiting for peanuts,
I was thinking about layovers.

Drifting to sleep, on that square of a pillow,
Knees to my chest and arms folded tight,
Dreaming of home, but stuck on this flight.

Turbulence seesawing our plane up and down,
Waking me abruptly, my vision still blurred,
I glance out the window, over the wing.

Mother of god, it's a duck of all things,
Staring at me like a new zoo exhibit,
Quacking at me, to say what an idiot.

Stuck in a can, hurtling across the sky,
At the mercy of gravity, because I can't fly.
This duck makes a point as he leaps in the air.
Spreading his wings, gone without a care.