Baggage, check.
Carry on, check.
Tray in upright position,
Lift off.

The passengers roll into the plane,
I usher them to their seats.

“Where is the plane heading?”
Wherever you desire.
You fumble for the ticket.
It is blank,
Except for one thing
Flight 859,
The flight to wherever.

“How does this plane go where I want?”
The pilot starts the flight but you finish it.
You scratch your head,
Then take your seat.

The plane reaches cruising altitude,
The captain comes on the intercom,
His voice a faint whisper,
He suggests where to go,
Yet only a few take his suggestion to heart.

One by one,
Passengers exit the plane.
You tug at my arm,
“Where did the plane take you?”
I go where the pilot takes me,
My job is to help the pilot.

Before you step through the door,
You glance back,
A slight glimmer is in your eyes,
You nod,
And take the final step
Off the plane.

I watch you walk down the jetway.
A question arises within,
Where did the plane take you?