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The planes were so backed up
Because of bad weather in Chicago,
My second link, was no
Longer available from SFO.
Again I trekked to the customer
Service center, again formed a
Line of over a hundred to see if
I would get lodging or a flight.
Another center opened at the
Other end of the terminal and an
Agent summoned half of us to
Follow him like kindergarteners
Staying in order in line. It moved
Quickly and I was given passes
For Denver and Cleveland but
I would have to wait until boarding
Resumed at 3:55 AM Pacific Time
Zone. By flying to San Francisco
I had actually gotten farther from
My destination but I would make it
Home by Wednesday afternoon.
I’d already notified Tony, my
Pet sitter, I’d be home later and
Now I’d have to call him again.
Fortunately a comrade-in-waiting
Had a matching charger and she
Leant it to me for my dead phone.
There are few places quieter than
An airport after closing. Cleaning
Crews make little noise. They played
Announcements about not leaving
Your luggage in a stranger’s care
And about a diner outside
The security zone for food is
Open for your tummy but you’ll
Have to wait until TSA
Returns to let you in. In the
Extraordinary silence they sound
Like warnings from turrets overhead
In a Nazi warcamp. You see bodies
Lying about furniture that yields
No comfort, everyone stirring at
The soundblasted announcements.
I walked around, talked to people
With dogs about their circumstances,
And unbowed, risked telling more
Women how much I admired their
Patience with children when flying.
Several, first startled at my approach,
Said they were genuinely touched
Since so many often bristled at the sight
Of them. My window seat did not
Reveal as much snow in the Rockies
As I’d seen before. We were soon
In Denver. I used the seven dollar
Vouchers United gave me for my
Flight inconvenience on a corned
Beef on rye that just did not stop
Raising my spirits. The flight home
Was on time. Everybody looked
Fresh and eager. I “seriously”
Considered burning the clothes I
Had worn. Took the Rapid back
To Ohio City and chatted with
A black man I met on the West 25th
Station elevator about how the
Tamir Rice decision was another
Black eye for the police. We wished
Each other, “Happy New Year,”
And parted. I’d failed to take
Extra meds and could sense
My emotions returning through
The fog of exhaustion. I’d take
Them soon. I was home back
Where I knew mine and they
Knew me. It was good to slog
Slowly down Franklin with
My luggage in tow to my house
To my pets, to my bed.
c. J.S.Manista, 2016
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