The Way Station

A metal capsule brought me here
through the skies
to this vast way station
called Bangkok.
A vaulted glass roof
and windowed walls
reveal a surrounding blackness.

Long concourses flow of each other
occasional strangers pass me by.
With my body in three am confusion,
I drag my feet as
my cabin bag with last minute needs
drags my arms down
in relentless pain.
I must find a new capsule
with my name on its manifest.

Vast signs point east and west,
I know I am going west.
I find no sign for my journey
on the western signs. I despair.
Will I ever escape
this vast glass edifice
surrounded by endless blackness ?

A long weary tramp brings me
to a counter of computers,
I show my ticket
and am directed
to eastern departure gates.

Another weary tramp brings me
to an eastern gate
that accepts my ticket.
At last I escape these vast glass halls
for my final destination.

The Way Station