Airport Strangers Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Recently I took a trip to the California shore.
On the way back home, I found an open door.
We landed in Chicago to eat dinner and confer.
At the gate entrance we waited for our transfer.

Approaching an empty seat directly beside me…
A smiling lady sat with a ticket and a bum knee.
She mentioned she needed to call her husband.
I placed my cell phone into her hesitating hand.

With an untried certainty she dialed the number.
She hoped he had not drifted off into a slumber.
Assuredly, 'hello, ' was responded to with a reply.
'Pick me up at Metro, I’ll be there at nine. Goodbye.'

Returning the cell phone, she thanked me for its use.
We started to indulge in conversation… letting loose.
In minutes, we found our interests were very familiar.
We are retired and our teaching careers were similar.

As she turned, I saw my grandmother’s contented eyes.
Apprehensively, I asked in what country her origin lies.
Canada is where she was attached, with European roots.
She wasn’t sure where each branch found travel boots.

My idea of family recognition left her mildly entertained.
Our plane was now ready, and we were no longer detained.
Our final home destination was only about one hour away.
The lengthening shadows indicated that night was on its way.

After landing, we picked up baggage and waited at curbside.
The damp cool breeze increased our eagerness for our ride.
Down the way, I saw a wave and heard my Canadian pal say…
'Bye, have a safe trip home. It was nice meeting you today.'

As our transportation pulled up, I was struck with a thought.
Strangers can be friendly companions without being sought.
People with whom we share, yet do not identify with a name…
Someone whose kind eyes will never again glimpse my claim.