Missing
sat there
too long
through three songs
looking out
past the view
beyond the list
of “things to do”
and in the mini mirror
catch a glimpse
of this guy
flying by with his buggy
his black coat
a blanket over his boy
maybe three
he picks him up
and tucks him in his seat
with the black blanket
and puts his parcels in the back
and pushes his buggy
where it belongs
and gets in
and is gone
as if he wasn’t there
a second ago
like that throw-away plate
parked two rows up
and Chesney sings
‘bout the loss
of certain things
TL