I see them as funeral houses.
I see the longing and the sorrows.
The passengers left—
and they became the ghosts
that greet me.
They show me the architecture,
the lights and the reflections,
then point at a random stranger,
mocking them in silence—
using my voice
for the mocking.
If the world has a graveyard for the lost,
they must add this place to the map.
But here I am,
still complaining,
still bearing this alone—
as if I volunteered
to haunt these terminals
in exchange for
one more unspoken goodbye.
At least
they could’ve revealed more.
boarding passes bought
x-ray scanners gone through
off to boarding door
Runway of lights
glass shivers from planes take off
city never sleeps
Terminal to enter portals of the world through air travel
On arrival we kiss.
On departure we weep.
Lives so different merge.
Lives so similar diverge.
Stranded at the airport…grand
Who dealt to me this bad hand?
Everything seemed in my way
At least I knew I could not stay
All the people in a hurry
Rushing quickly everywhere, the scurry
Dragging luggage so intent
I could not tell who came or went
Some were stranded, sleeping
Some were walking, creeping
On chairs and benches all around
Or sleeping on the ground
Will we go where we have to go?
We don’t like the airport show
Flying sometimes seems a chore
I don’t think I care for airports any more
I am not lonely anymore
LAX - my neighbor next door
TSA is boyfriend
Daily travels pretend
Mile High Club is now on the floor...
Inspired by Carolyn's Blog on TSA Humor :)