Moving Walkways Rob Me of My Time With You

Think of the kind of walkways you find in airports. You know which ones? Great. Keep that in mind.

A couple together,

His hands on her face,

Her lips on his chin,

Wrinkled faces, grey hair

And too soon do I pass them.

Our moment cut short

I would have noticed them

But for a moment

Now our time is even more brief

And too soon I move on.

A child eating ice cream

Her mother washing her face.

Watching them as I approach,

Hearing the child’s laughter,

And too soon it fades in the crowd.

There are others too.

Some I can still see,

The woman on the cell phone.

Others barely registered,

And too soon they are forgotten.

Perhaps next time,

When my plane ticket allows,

I will not take the walkway,

And though slower, I’ll avoid

Too soon.