Wednesday, February 16, 2011


he stands at the concourse intersection
       looking this way and that
he reads the faces of passersby
       for signs of confusion and frustration

he is quick to act and even quicker to recall
        each and every gate and prop and counter
with a smile and knowing wink,
       he gently points the way

you can see the tensions ease as the
       words come from his mouth
reassuring, experienced, calming,
        they melt and ease back their shoulders

he is a blessing to all,
       but this is a cautionary tale
for he is there at that corner,
       himself lost and dry

for his ticket and pass point to where
        he cannot find
friends i am that airportman,
       sight so clear of other's paths

yet i cannot find my way in similar
       forests and travails