Going places, a poem by John Cotter.

I have a surprise for poetry day this week. I accumulated over four million miles traveling for my consulting business during the 1980s and 1990s and started writing a poem a week to send to members of my family while I was away. I kept this up until my children graduated college and it's been an infrequent pastime - anniversaries, birthdays, weddings - ever since. Here's a poem I sent to my son Jonathan in 1991 called Going Places.

Going Places by John Cotter.

Often, before I board the plane
I wonder who'll sit next to me.
Will they be nice and kind and pretty,
or will they be ugly, mean and gritty?
Once, I sat beside Tommy's step-dad
on a trip from Dallas to Tampa,
and up there in the blue,
we talked about you.
Another time, I sat next to Cybil Shepard
all the way from LA to New York.
She drank Evian and ate fruit
all along the route.
I also flew with Lea Thompson
one night from Phoenix to Burbank.
She had a kitten in her bag named "stunt cat."
Imagine that!
But, most of the time
I sit next to business travelers like myself.
It's late, and we're tired after a hard day.
We don't talk much, we just want to be on our way.
Once though, just once
I'd like to sit next to Melanie Griffith --
This idea seems nifty
to a guy over fifty!