The Waiting

 

While I read or
small-talk with an old couple from San Diego or
look around the
terminal
I'm really waiting to
be somewhere
else

The no-time
lodged between time of
arrivals and departures
present transitioning future into
present present into
past past into
memory
forgotten
sets the pattern
the dull expectation
that snaps into
action

and the prelude to migration

 

 


Blood Dance is the next poem in Migration Patterns.
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