Out on the runway I fold my hands,
For the large metal bird has spread its wings
Ready to carry me over the earth
To foreign lands with exotic things.
In a very few hours I shall be
Where clippers of old took months to reach,
Crossing the brilliant azure lanes,
Landing these shoes on a faraway beach.
Travel was slow a mere hundred years past
When horses and buggies still ruled the ground,
And great steel ships inched through the seas
Until Orville and Wilber birds' secrets found!
We take flight for granted, a marvelous age,
Forgetting two minds who made it be;
Too, remember their town that gave us sky,
Dayton, Ohio in Nineteen and Three.
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