I notice the birds don’t flinch at all, as you roar past
with great ferocity & speed, out of the airport, over
the mountains of Crete
The holiday makers all look up, surprised by your
arrival and departure, impression lasting only a few
seconds before they talk about their return home and
what they’ll eat for tea
With the fifth take off, they look somewhat concerned,
stare a little longer, converse over the reasoning of your
flight. Reassuring themselves and each other; that all is
fine and they are safe
My eyes turn to the mountains and I wonder if they look
at all similar, to those in the parts of Afghanistan, where
no holiday makers are currently hiking and over the other
side is not another resort pool to bath in and deepen the
suntan, lying on loungers.
The parents of a family sitting next to me, fuss over their
children, buying toy cars from the airport shop and offering
packed lunches stored in a big bag labeled “Yummy Mummy”.
But my focus stays on war. I think little of my return home or
what I’ll eat for tea.
No comments:
Post a Comment