Learning To Fly A Cessna Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Wading through memories of flying a cessna when nineteen years old.
Still feeling the joy whenever thinking about it.
Taking off and landing at Sky Harbor Airport, making left banks,
right banks, flying aloft.
Instructor asking me if I want to stall the engine, totally
agreeable, he told me what to do.
Stalling - the plane dropped significantly, taking my heart and
stomach with it.
So totally amazed at the feelings, enjoying them immensely, -
wanting to do it again.
The instructor saying next time you can do it again.
Flying off into the sunrise on the way to Prescott, my very first
lesson ever and I got to do it all.
A compliment from my instructor, saying I was a natural and he
enjoyed teaching me.
Looking forward to next time also.