plaid shirts,
puffy Patagonias
hiking boots
and man-buns prevail
old punk rocker
silver hair slicked
into a spiky ridge
gives visual relief
little dogs on long leashes
swaddled in puppy coats
toes clickity-clack on
highly polished tiles
my own toes, scuffed
placed on silver pedestals
dark head bends to
apply Oxblood shine
See’s chocolate kiosk
resisted once, twice, but not thrice
I find a 6 x 12 x 1 inch space
in bag overflowing
book store browsing yields
more must-haves than
my carry-on suitcase
can accommodate
poetry and a memoir
make the cut
while, with a sigh
the rest, re-shelved
passengers, all shades of white
workers, all shades of brown
why? I have no answers
but always wonder
flight announced
lines form
seats found
stuff stuffed
my silver bird
finally
takes flight