The child’s eyes filled with tears
The journey was too long,
Grandparents were a distant memory.
Home was a dream of Father Christmas or the Easter Bunny.
Boarding was a bad word, written for business class who needed to connect.
Her hands were red; sanitized, rubbed raw with worry.
Return, they said, it will work out.
He is only overworked.
The ring on her hand caught the light
The gold clung to her finger.
Turbulence is a result of take off;
Then there is stability.
Her body relaxes
And belts removed.
A tiny head asleep on her chest