Poetry
The Message
A poem about journeys, interpretations, and meanings
Published in
Apr 7, 2023
I had you on the phone as I strode
over the skybridge at the airport,
so close to reaching you I couldn’t
stop smiling. I smiled at the men
whose brochures said we’d be going
down the long, bent path to hell.
But not this day. I was only
going down a short escalator
to where you waited by baggage claim.
We hung up when I could see you.
You couldn’t see me until I was almost
within reach. You smiled, too,
and came to hug me more tightly
than I knew people ever hugged
in real life, your whole body
pressing its message of love into me.
