We linger and linger
though the traffic is building
the plane at O’Hare will not wait
but we cannot bear to take
the elevator down
(if you go down far enough
the parking numbers start climbing
and there is, in the depths
an alternate hotel holding
a mundane convention)
strangers are saying goodbye
across the lobby, not quite weeping
next year, you might be saying goodbye
to them as well; how is it possible
to have so much family
you haven’t yet met?
the embraces are endless
and never enough;
the final hours of conversation
are light, inconsequential
we cannot bear to start
something real
we won’t be allowed to finish
but there is laughter at least
a month after it all ends,
you will wake from a dream
and realize that you are still
clinging, the warmth of their arms
around you imprinted, the sound
of their voices, ringing in your ears.
*****