Вернуться к списку стихов

At the Airport

The airport: the minutes go by —
In tiresome waiting or anticipation…
I am to board a no-number flight
To some unknown distant destination.

The cities shuffle and flash before my eyes:
New York and Sydney, Moscow and Rome,
Johannesburg, Hong Kong, Berlin, Dubai —
All spelling ‘Love’, all but a magic promise…

The flight’s announced. The boarding pass in hand,
I hit the trail, as daring as ever:
I don’t know how, where or when
But I should meet… my match that’s made in heaven!