These are a selection of poems authored by 4 Wing’s Padre Nicholas Young.
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The call came in at three
In the morning.
Just when I was hoping that
The weather would hold,
That the next person would take over,
Snow overwhelmed us, and
With the flu and sick children
Thrown in for good measure,
Getting from A to Be became
The biggest challenge
To not missing the handover.
Besides which nobody
Ever waits long to take over a phone
That rings at three.
We all cling to our free movement,
So even the lightest weight
Threatens like a mule’s burden
And storms and colds
Seem peripheral to keeping free
Of unwanted tasks.
That electronic squawk
Sounding like an oversized but sick crow
Has become the half unheeded warning:
“The doors, the doors!”
Members who often speak of the need
To work as one body with one mind
Pulling together on the wide floor
To get the job done of achieving
Regular and steady take-offs,
Stroll carelessly and easily back and forth
Having adapted themselves to automatic reaction.
And so routine sets in
Bringing with it that tiresome sequence
Of old tasks and regular problems
Which distract the mind from
The overwhelming goal,
As broad and as high as the wide blue
Where possibilities of adventure are so many
We cannot rehearse them all enough.