Atlanta Airport

The airport is a busy place energy going every which way,

bits and pieces of languages float up from the unending stream

of excited voices sounding happy or anxious by something or another,

most have some communication device ignoring those around them

speaking to some disembodied being in some other part of the world,

some have ear devices looking very crazy as they talk to themselves,

funny to watch, though I know this is not so, they are not insane

they just look it.

In the atrium people lounging looking tired and frustrated, delays I guess,

or perhaps waiting for someone who is late, bored, some sleeping,

others reading and many just joking and laughing in small groups,

soldiers passing by, some alone, others in platoons marching by,

many clap for them, I don’t, not because I don’t respect them or care,

I just find that kind of thing hard to do.

Wheel chairs whisking by pushed by those on a certain mission,

at least someone knows what they are about, if only for a moment,

the person in the chair at times looking a bit nervous at the speed being pushed,

yet I have never seen wheel chairs collide.

Down the escalator to the trams, though I walk the first leg of the journey,

between the T concourse and the A terminal there are statures that I love

created by artist from Africa, beautiful creations with beautiful names:

“Family”, water spirit” just two that jump out at me; I never tire of them;

I have perhaps seen them half a dozen times the few times I fly.

Getting to the airport early just so I can spend some time looking at them,

running my hands over the stone, and marveling at the talent being presented,

just thankful that they were still there.

The trams going too fast, stopping suddenly, I had to stop an elderly couple from falling,

right place at the right time. The tram packed for a short time, and then I was off at D.

The wait not long, lucky day, flights on time, so I was off.