She walked out
Limping
For reasons God knew
In her multi colour
Dressing
Sharp spikes of yellow
And darks
The African vibrant
Against the white and silver
That dullness
The blandness
Of terminal 4
Arrivals
As her arrival
Was different
Though she didn't seem to know it
I couldn't see her face yet
But somehow I seem to know it
There was tiredness in movement
Pain perhaps
No amazement
No awe or surprise
At the fact she's under British skies
Where did she come from?
I could've checked the screen
But didn't
I watched on
She slowly limped
To her son it must've been
And hugged
And kissed
And loved
And shook his hand
He smiled
like we all do
Her story unknown
Sadly I could guess at heartache
How awful of me
Or them
Or us?
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