It’s a muffled call over the speaker
But everyone gathers their luggage
And snacks and pillows
A migration over dirty blue carpets.
One by one, trudge by trudge
We march staccato, weighed down
And imbalanced by heavy bags in varied
States of wear. Start with the back
Of the plane and fill it up to the front.
Just another waiting room until the next one. It almost feels like there is no
*Originally featured on my Instagram.