Not Saying Goodbye at Gate 21
(Wellington NZ: September 2010)
The final call
for boarding
hand-luggage scanned,
the last, forgotten,
canned drink binned.
I watch him through the glass
walk to the door and hand
over his printed pass.
He waves,
makes the clown's face
that means 'Cheer up,
this time, I won't be gone
for long'. He turns,
then turns back, lifts one hand
to the terrorist-proof glass. We place
palm to palm
remembered skin
on either side of the cold surface.
Abruptly,
already past tense,
he has wheeled off towards
the journey and, unlike Orpheus,
not looking back.
I watch the swerve
of his head, his coat flap. Then
the screen says
'Gate closed. Boarded' and
I walk away with his absence.
poem by Kathleen Jones
Added by Poetry Lover
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