the stranger

stay in touch, he says.
shaking my hand before boarding his
flight. he brushes his white
hair to the side.
don't let
another year go by without
coming
to visit.
he hugs me and picks up
his bag
then disappears into
the crowd.
I wonder who he is.
who he thought I was.
I just came in for a drink,
a paper and to watch
the planes come and go.
I miss him already.