the milwaukee airport

there are planes
in the air,
shadows with long
arms and blinking
red lights,
circling, and landing
with a screeching
thud, and halt,
the whine of
engines going
down, or revving up
to rise and disappear.
there is
the collaboration
of luggage
and food, and
coffee spills,
babies crying,
and a voice overhead
expressing late
arrivals, or
delays, there is
the wait, the stale
limbo of it all
that keeps you
on edge, nothing
distills and settles
the moment as
you look at your
boarding pass,
your gate, your
flight number, again
and again, making sure
it's where it
was two minutes
ago. you'd
like to be where
you need to be in
your life, to be
at the last place
you land,
but this is how
you get there. this
is the first step.