he stands at the concourse intersectionlooking 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
