The drink cart wheels creek as they roll down the aisle.
The cabin shakes and I crank up my death denial.
These planes are well made, to myself I say.
Then the wobble of wings cause me mild dismay.
The captain clicks on, “Sorry for the bumps.
We’re stopping drink service for now.
Stewardess, I say, put your drink cart away.
And thirsty folks, don’t have a cow.”
The stewardess abides but one final client
Is parched on the bouncing airplane.
“I’ll just get you dear, then I’ve got to steer clear.
This rumbling’s caused by the rain.”
The wings lurch forward and let out a groan.
The woman thinks then decrees,
“What would hit the spot, only if piping hot
Is wonderful cup of Earl Grey tea.”
The stewardess looks in her shaking eyes for a joke
And seeing none there, she stares.
She pours boiling steam as if on a balance beam.
And whispers some scalding-hot prayers.
“Are you quite sure you want this?
It is awfully hot,” the flight attendant puffed up.
“Yes, Yes. I know,” says this jumping Jane Doe.
And reaches for the tipsy Styrofoam cup.
For the next 15 minutes, she tries a tremulous drink
And each time her lips touch, the wind hits the plane out of sync.
This dipstick feels the cold on her tounge
and Turbulent Iced Tea her beverage has become.