Seat 14B

She’s didn’t want to talk
as the airplane turned
from taxi to runway.

This woman, brave
as any I knew, wanted
me to shut the hell up.

All my memorized statistics
my calculated probabilities
could not abate her fear

that this thin aluminum tube
with wings full of fuel
was about to crash.

She, who could turn strangers
into friends with no effort
beyond mere conversation.

She, who could deflate
a corporate meeting bully
with a well-timed jibe.

She, who could give a speech
to a ballroom full of customers
and suffer no stomach flutters.

As the simple physics of acceleration
forced us hard back into our seats
I offered my hand

 _ – _ – _ – _ – _ – to hold
and remained in her panicked clench
until the ground fell safely away.

(For this week’s Living Poetry Prompt.)