(air terminal love) by Adam Smith


(air terminal love)

cross-armed and staring,
you sit
like a portrait
but
read like a magic
eye;

a cacophony of
sounds
and probabilities
of who you
might be
abound

your face stilled by
that
far-away look

and that makes you
famous here,
sitting in the
station

and i,
in bearded wonder-
ment,
(eleven days),
can only stare
at my
shoes;

stealing a glance
here,
issuing a smile
there…

in my mind
you’re signing
autographs

                – Adam Smith
                    from Words Dance #4 Spring 2004