Tuesday 11 June 2019


I'm unsure if the planes,
the tickets,
the luggage
or people
are where the spark is set,
but airports set my life

Those birds, those
flying though heavier
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.

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