hangar space

i know one day i'll look back on this

waypoint

when i'm thousands of miles away

and smile

shake my head

and think,

damn, remember that?

and i'll remember--

lonely nights,

runway lights gleaming against a pitch black canvas,

the sound of a breeze through stationary turbines,

radio chatter,

sleeping on airport couches

waiting for another dispatch

i'll remember that waypoint--

the smell of jet fuel on hot days,

the feel of prop wash against sweaty skin,

twenty dollar handshakes,

prayers for tailwinds,

altimeter readings and IFRs,

tail numbers for Cessnas, Socatas, and Saratogas

i'll remember,

smile, 

and shoot the next RNAV approach.