Selected Poems
Departures and Arrivals
Way past overdue to the point wanton worry
for some, the waiting was nearly unbearable.
They had arrived first. He was not in the terminal.
He was missing for hours that passed like days.
When he finally arrived at the promised place,
they greeted him like Lindbergh at Bourget.
His family found him in waves of heat and twilight
and Himself let in through the back fenced gate.
The rusted gate, laced over one with burnt vines
and lined off with straggler orange caution cones.
His family ran across the tarmac. His adult daughters
reached him first and hugged with relief. His wife wept.
His young sons limboed to him through the back window
of the shuttle bus and the lads, walking, finally caught up.
Himself, wrinkled and strained from the trip
having been through purgatory, he laughed
about being delayed at customs. He mentions
a misunderstanding for a string of menial sins.
He was just happy to be finally to be home.
