espadrilles, slingbacks, Birkenstocks, heels
flip-flops thwapping, wedges clapping
thick rubber soles for those always standing
slip-ons to slide through security
neon yellow sneakers
preppie red topsiders
denim blue nubucks
green Nikes, green shirt, green hair
lace-up boots and a beret
cowboy boots and a mini
calf-high boots and a scarf
army boots and a mission
strollers with little feet dangling
strawberry ankle-strap sandals
floppy grimy duck
flight attendant’s skirt so tight her pockets gape
lumpy teen’s shorts so short her undies show
obese woman’s wheelchair braced like a baggage cart
mama’s tight pants with a belly bulging out
mirrored sunglasses slung backward from the ears
uniforms of khakis and polos and backpacks
Bluetooth headset, Blackberry clipped to the belt
hard-soled, long-toed, Italian leather loafers
(click, click, click)
all of us pieces of ego and oddness
and still somebody claims us
Harry Burns: You take someone to the airport, it’s clearly the beginning of the relationship. That’s why I have never taken anyone to the airport at the beginning of a relationship.
Sally Albright: Why?
Harry Burns: Because eventually things move on and you don’t take someone to the airport and I never wanted anyone to say to me, How come you never take me to the airport anymore?
Sally Albright: It’s amazing. You look like a normal person, but actually you are the angel of death. (When Harry Met Sally)
4 thoughts on “Shoes in the airport and other observations”
Karen–wonderful sounds here–great poem. Also a sucker for “When Harry Met Sally” dialogue.