At Kill Devil Hills
December 17th, 1903
atop a lonely dune in the Outer Banks,
in all the raggle-taggle history
of humankind’s achievements, that day ranks
as one that caused perhaps the most elation.
The viewers could be counted on one hand.
The news soon faded. But not aviation!
The seabirds seemed to understand that manned
air travel wasn’t some trifle to ignore,
although they laughed and chittered seeing us glide
a mere ten feet above their private shore
against a freezing, blustery breeze. The tide
nonetheless had turned. Now, ever higher,
far higher than those herons, hawks and geese
who watched that first low effort of our Flyer,
we climb and climb and … Will it never cease?
To what strange shores are we ordained to fly?
One frabjous day we’ll reach an alien beach
where pelicans dive for dinner, killdeer cry,
and gulls, foreseeing garbage, screech and screech.
_____
Note: December 17th marks the anniversary of the Wright Brothers’ first
successful heavier-than-air flight.
(Appeared in The Road Not Taken.)
212th Weekly Poetry Contest