Far up in a cobalt sky
appears a long contrail
whose metallic maker carries hie
folk, with each a different tale

Some, I'm sure, are on a quest
on this clear winter day
to their business rivals, best
as they practice just what they will say

Others are vacation bound
maybe to a tropic shore
where tensions will become unwound
and worries thought about no more

A few up in that speeding speck
wearing sad and quiet faces
go to give a last respect
and pass upon lost souls last graces

And young men with faces grim
returning to a distant war
hopes and worries go with them
do they question what they're fighting for?

A smiling couple, honeymoon
where they'll test wedding bed springs
and every day they'll sleep till noon
as their new love grows and sings

Then the other lucky few
in that coach so far above
who have someone just like you
to whom they return with love