Monday, January 19, 2015

departing

with planes in the air,
on the ground
turning, arriving,
leaving.
the runways long and grey,
the terminals
full, like hives
of hurried souls,
that spill and spill.
we hug
in the low light
of a January sun and say
warm farewells,
we make promises to see
each other soon again.
but our worlds move
with or without one
another.
with planes in the air,
on the ground
turning, arriving,
leaving.

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