Flight from Denver

Seated at a small table in the cold
airport, sipping a glass of wine, nibbling
toasted ravioli she does not want,
the woman waits – her future balancing
at the boundary of his arrival gate.
Don’t borrow trouble, before it steps in
to your life…
his voice echoes off the wall,
recalls years before, when they were happy –
yes, those times did exists. She’s insistent
even when he tosses doubt into her
memories; she cherishes the glimpses
of love she found in his kisses, his touch –
then lost when the flight from Denver landed.

Composure her trademark, she holds back tears.