Every so often, I’ll come across a poem that sort of sticks around in my mind. It’s not that I memorize it on purpose or read it so many times that I may as well have memorized it. The poem just buries itself in the back of my head and comes up, unbidden, every now and then.
“Flying at Night” is one of those poems. I came across it in sixth grade English class, and it’s stuck around with me. The rhythm of it pleases me, and every time I happen to be in an airplane at nighttime, the lines float around in my head.