October 1991
The path to Lindbergh's
Home and Museum

When I was very young
And laying in my bed
I would sometimes hear the noise
Of an airplane overhead.

Lindbergh! Flying the Night Mail!
I just knew it had to be.
And I closed my eyes to imagine
That flying it was me.

To follow along Lindbergh’s path
Was what I hoped to do.
But our ambitions when so young
Seldom do come true.

But this one did, in a way
For Lindbergh walked this same trail
Through the gorgeous trees
Long before he flew the Night Airmail!

jhs