the flying walrus

the flying walrus

my father used to fly us
through the western pennsylvanian
ohio and west virginian skies.

my brothers and i were always thrilled
to be invited along on that ride
although the joy was different for each.

i do not know what kicks my brothers
gathered on those weekend afternoons
we didnt talk much then or even now.

but i really enjoyed the feel of taking the stick
with my dad giving it over but more i loved
knowing that even so he was still captain.