The plane came zooming down and then
It circled round and round again
I loved that plane, I wished t’were mine
Coveted — the sleek design
I wanted to soar — to touch a cloud
Wanted to look down, shout out loud:
“Hey, look at me — I’m in the sky
I’m piloting the plane, am I”
And down I’m falling, back to earth
Tiny plane of steel (for what it’s worth!)
My brother, ten, down on his knees —
“Look out! Look out!” — I feel the breeze
A child was I though all of twelve
Into this play I chose to delve
And on that day he lay there, dying
I wasn’t there — I was up there flying
She’s twelve years old -- and not aware?
Perhaps it did not seem so
Please know that I could, I did care
Although I let no tear show
That awful day that won’t go away
A tear I could not shed
It’s sometimes what you want to say
That's worse than what you said
On that awful day that won’t go away
There it was, inside my head:
“It’s now my plane? The plane is mine
It’s mine — the pilot's dead.”
