The crowds continually flow out the gate
Into the city which they landed in.
I look at each new face to indicate
The memory of the one who has been
In my mind since the last time I saw her.
It takes a trip to the local airport
To initiate the loneliness cure
That my heart has recently had to court.
But the passengers keep passing me by
Not showing the face of the one I love,
So I scab the crowd until I descry
That she has returned from her flight above.
I am always amazed by this strange feat
When we find that moment when our eyes meet.
John Collings 