Looking Up

Thirty-seven thousand feet up in the sky
Just a tiny pin prick to my naked eye
One-hundred forty people on their way
To start a new adventure on this day

And for a few brief hours they become
A living organism, closer to the sun
The air they breathe recirculates inside
This tubular tin can providing the ride

As I watch the bright white tail
Surfing the sky without a sail
I wonder who is sitting in the stiff-backed narrow seats
Drinking their free sodas and eating pretzel treats?