From Luton Airport
Luton Airport
People, passengers, everyone going somewhere, somewhere else
I love seeing them; there are so many nationals. Hmm. A half hour ago, I shopped
A white Bacardi, and beside me, I heard Polish words. I looked there
A very likable par. A young Polish woman and a man. I asked them.
(They shopped at the self-service checkout)
Are you Polish? “Yes.” They answered. Nice to meet you, I said. I am a Hungarian
I told them. We talked a bit. Not too much time. They were friendly. Polish and Hungarian
They are brothers and sisters. They are on a different line. I just think. I am still sitting here
So many people walking in front of me, I am sitting on a bench, and the pubs are full here
In this airport. Always
Good to see these people here. How many nations are there? I don’t know. I don’t know
Someone is going to the Parish, someone to Bucharest, Someone to Warsaw, Someone to Krakow. And to so many places, cities, and countries. They're just flies, from my mind
I saw all of them—many faces, souls, characters. My heart is in pain. I can’t see them anymore
Have a Good Journey!!
God Bless You!
All the Best!
All to You
Love You!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment