In the airport.

In the airport
He's the guy tapping,
Tapping on a terminal
Table, staring out of
A concourse window,
His eyelashes wet.
I guess she left
Him. I don't know.
I didn't see her leave.

In the airport
He's the guy laughing,
Laughing like the lottery,
Holding his stomach,
His mouth trying to take
Us all in. I guess
He hadn't laughed
That hard in awhile.

In the airport
He's the guy wiping,
Wiping away the waste
On the table of the laughter
And the tapper, clearing
The imprints except those left
On us like the single,
Short sob that made
Me look or the booming laughter
That rolled out like two
Great doors swinging wide
In the airport,
Ready to take us all in
Except we all had places
We had to go.