Undersaturated Overtones

[It’s been a while since I wrote something in under 10 minutes, sleep deprivation was the cure to that. Here’s a poem I wrote at the Zurich airport after the first leg of the journey to Chicago. (This is one of the few things I’ve ever written directly onto the computer).]

In a rush we scuttle and scamper,

Teetering from one end to another

A delicate feel of movement

But not much else.

Here we are, confined,

With no place to go.

It mushrooms within

Regurgitates itself time again.

You wonder at it,

Stare at its

Strange balmy pleasantness.

This is the end, here we go.

A feeble fluttering,

A sweet sensation,

An indication of final presence

Suffuses when surrounded.

Thinking of the inevitable

Just as we go.

Now we meet,

You and I.

After weeks of rumination,

Reflecting the inexorable

A breathless sigh in satisfaction,

Alas! we can go.