“Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.” --Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
In my brother’s car
on the way to the airport
for Easter Sunday mass,
and then in the chapel
on the Mezzanine level
at O’Hare. No, before that,
on the row of hard leather chairs
behind the Starbucks kiosk--
four of them--welded together
and pushed up against a wall,
facing the kiss ‘n’ fly lanes outside.
That’s where we ate pastries and drank our
morning beverages (coffee, chocolate milk)
before the service.
Sometimes we turned to each other
to make conversation,
other times we spoke towards
our reflections in the windows,
telling our stories and rememberingwhat it’s like to be together.
This poem was meant for Easter, but it had to tumble around my brain for a bit before I could get it out. I might need to put it back in for another spin, but here it is for now.