The Airport Lounge
The airport lounge at JFK is an alien place
cold and sterile as outer space
where nodding heads take furtive naps;
a barren way to fill life's gaps.
This waiting time is wasted time,
stagnant time that does not flow,
tick... tick... ticking, dreadful slow.
When at last we get the call
squawking through the speaker
bleary eyes on each and all
blink and roll awake.
Trailing bags on wheels that squeak
we shuffle off to find the gate
where once again...
Until cleared to board we sit and stay,
Or stand and shift from leg to leg,
while our precious lives
tick tick away.