I like airports

I like airports, have always liked airports, and not because
of the airplanes, which
I
liked 2. It’s all the coming
and
going. People on the move,
and I can sit and imagine from whence and
what
they’ve come and to
who or where – or both –
they’re headed. There is
promise in that, mostly, though
I’m sure that
some of each – the comings and goings –
are those of sadness and loss and
maybe both. So, I sit,
here, watching, observing
folks
at
that in-between place before
the
destination finally is
met. I wonder about them. Some
of
them. I can’t fit in all.