Co-Pilots

We are in a holding pattern,
Two planes circling an airport,
Ever so ready to land,
Finger on the landing gear.

My trip to you is never one-stop,
An easy first class ride,
Eyes covered,
Wine glass empty.

We are in a holding pattern,
Trapped between where we've been,
What we know ... are to know,
And 3,000 miles on the engines.

Let those acres of country land below go,
Free them to feed the masses,
This is a circling dance to land,
That's the nips ... that's what matters.

Co-pilots ... Jet jockeys,
Get on your speaker phone,
Comfort your angry passengers,
There's only one destination.