Flight One Nineteen And Holding.

Flight #119 and holding...

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My Dad's

almost eighty now 

he's a reflection 

though somewhat

faded of me 

in some

short years 

that have 

yet to pass.

but time goes so fast

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Our Mom's

and Dad's

tend to be

a mirror of flesh

one can see a bit

of thier tomorrows

in the grandness

of their parents.

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Time flys...

it's true 

and we are

all passengers 

booked on

one way fares 

to various

destinations 

that's a given.

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Plus we all

have reservations

about going

too soon....

or not having

enough money

when we start

planning to go.

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But Dad and I 

have both earned 

frequent flyer miles 

out the wazoo.

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Together with the

large amount of time's

journeys we've shared,

we've accumulated well

over a hundred years worth.

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But we don't dare 

trade them in.

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Nope...we're saving 'em up 

for that one really big trip....

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Cause heaven is 

a long way off I hear.......

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and hell is just a terminal 

full of angry people 

who've been bumped 

down to 

standby and sweat.

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©-MFB III