Somewhere over Newfoundland
To the south of the Labrador Sea
I am going 624 miles per hour
And wondering
If they serve beer in Germany
At 7:00 in the morning

While flying over Ireland
“Just passing through”
I realize that
Even though it’s very early
The wee hours of the morning
It is, in fact, St. Patrick’s Day!
And I’m not wearing even a spot of green

36,000 feet
Over the Celtic Sea
My body says
Night came oddly early
And dawn freakishly soon
Are you on drugs?

Jolly old England
Homeland of my love
I peer far below at cottony fog
And wave hello
At my future in-laws

Germany was a bust.  No beer!  I was there too early in the morning.

I didn’t sleep at all, really, during the long flight.  I did cat nap in Frankfurt and slept almost all the way from Frankfurt to Helsinki.  I’m in my hotel room now.

Now for a shower, some dinner, and an early “night.”


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