An egg timer flips
On the day we are born
And sand starts a slippin’
Through life’s open door
Like a Herc on the wing
Or a boat under sail
This journeying life
Meets tumultuous gale
COVID splashes windscreens
And Frankfurt makes the call
No gear down and no landing
It’s Rudesheim and hold
State fuel and don’t lie
Controller gods so blithe
Inbound traffic stacks up
Outbounds standing by
All flight plans are now suspect
Back again to base ops
Flight clearances are cancelled
The birds are in the chocks
No five-sauce pasta coming
In Pordenone tonight
Italy may be calling
But now the time’s not right
Waitin’ round the lonely ramp
And crew resting in time
As sand just keeps on slippin’
With no calzone and no wine
Slow the sundown, pretty please
Let me linger in the breeze
Before my ashes finally poured
To fertilize the trees
Waipahu Bob 