Airports

I'm unsure if the planes,
the tickets,

the luggage

or people

are where the spark is set,

but airports set my life

alight.

Those birds, those

steel

birds,

flying though heavier

even

than our hearts can get…

Those engines roar of hope

and chances.

The tickets…

—each a checkpoint, a gateway,

a shot at the other side.

The luggage…

—my home for 6 months,

     still my world more spacious than runways.

And the people?

They’re telling stories

even when passed out across Departures.

That girl there’s in transit;

that guy there’s apprentice to this all.

And that one there?

It’s hard to tell.

They could be tears of joy

or of farewell.