Finally,
the captain came down the long hallway
laughing at an unheard remark
made by the long-legged stewardess at his side.
Somewhere,
the music of a harmonica sang a tune
that would have found itself
more at home in a bus station.
A young man in a pressed cotton shirt,
clean and white,
denim walking shorts,
tennis shoes with blue stripes
and hanging in his left hand
a jumble of flowers -
pink and yellow, green,
red, purple,
white -
hanging in his left hand.
He wanders through the lobby
looking at faces,
searching empty seats
while,
a thousand miles away,
a reporter writes,
Female, 24, dies in auto accident.