Candlelit under moonlight

 

Photo and words by John Stouras

The baggage claim scrolls through the terminal screen

My foot taps as time wastes by

The black bags roll through check-in

Waiting for my green bag’s greeting.

I’ve been waiting for this moment,

It felt like forever.

I’ve been waiting for their car,

It felt like weeks.

It has changed.

The cracks on the concrete.

Gone.

The Italian restaurant on the avenue.

Gone.

But it is the same.

The candles under the moon,

My family under the candlelight,

Smiles that remind me of all that’s warm.

 

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