Lately — for years now — they’re all too afraid to fly.
No one’s seen the Pyramids in years.
They’re too scared to get themselves there.
They think if only they could airlift them
Block by block to the British Museum or some such place,
Then they’d know what they look like, what they feel like.
She stared at photos all her life,
Marveled at the pre-wheel technology,
Their alignment with the stars.
She bought a white linen suit and a ticket for a Nile River cruise
With dozens of her contemporaries.
The first night she fell asleep to the gentle Nile,
Never woke up,
And never saw them, just like everyone else.