Among Suitcases I
Packed up again,
Cedars and crescents in my carry-on,
A heart and soul in my suitcase…
The mattress on my bed is bare, save for a straw hat
Resting in the middle of it and a bottle of cologne
There are scrapes on the wall
And bits where the paint came off
The floor is littered with baggage, hardly a place to step
But the room feels empty… yet again
I’ll put my home under my hat
And take one last look at the faded curtains
Hanging over my windows
1:03 am
Last call on my cell phone: Grandpa
Last call on my cell phone: A leather pillow and apple vinegar
Last call on my cell phone: A school bus in the rain
Last call on my cell phone: A hug, a kiss and another suitcase
Last call for Mr. Bakhash… Please proceed to Gate 43…
Last call…
The airports are all the same
Frantic people, too busy to look back…
Confused children tailing their parents
Overpriced coffee, stale sandwiches… all too familiar
Heathrow, Starbucks…
Heathrow, Laptops…
Heathrow, iPods…
Heathrow, Crowds…
Heathrow, Empty
The airports are all the same…
Empty
Los Angeles, Frankfurt, Paris, Dubai, Beirut
Empty
Copyright © Moose Bak | Year Posted 2009
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