I carry the elemental
along in my suitcase
a brief and candid moment
where I see my face
in the terminal window
eyes of hazel, smokey
in the morning light
I shiver and cross
the moving walk.
I feel the handrails
as they slip beneath
my hand. Reaching
for the other side,
bringing my bag behind.
My feet remember
the way walking
I need not guide their path
each step closer to
the entrance, I leave
the past behind.
Stumbling, I catch myself
And take a backward glance.
Nothing to prepare me for
the breaking storm
that flies outside the door.
Shivering, I run my hand
upon the silver rails
I feel the hard, cool bars
and step inside the door.