Poem: Amsterdam Airport
Written May 12, 2017
I am at Amsterdam airport.
On a transfer to the UK from Vancouver.
I sit on the plane on the runway
with the other passengers
waiting to get organized for take off.
Before I sat on this plane
I sat in the airport for two hours.
Stared out the big airport windows
into the distance where I had never been.
Last time I was here
I bought tiny ceramic clogs on a keychain
for my Dad as a souvenir.
I watch a man drive a motorized luggage cart.
He piles luggage from under our plane into the cart.
Drives away to the middle of the asphalt
between the two planes.
Two suitcases fall off of the cart.
Land in the middle of the huge expanse of
One of them was blue, I do remember that.
The cart guy doesn’t notice this.
He keeps driving with a bare spot on his cart
onward past the second plane.
The luggage just sits there.
So I call to one of the flight attendants.
I say to him look someone’s luggage
has fallen off the cart and is sitting
in the middle of the runway
and the luggage cart guy has no clue.
So the attendant fetches
the other passenger a bottle of water
and thanks me.
I guess I was thinking of the lonely
personal items in the suitcase.
Clothes worn for holidays, for weddings or
funerals or relationships ending.
Fifteen years of what they could collect,
ready to start again.
By Wendy Stewart