Susan LaffertyIn December, a treasured necklace from Japan falls on the floor. Breaks.
And I get on my knees. Gathering broken pieces. Fragments.
Trying to put the puzzle back together. But it sits.
Incomplete.
So I place what remains in a bowl. Not ready to give up on it yet. Perhaps a shard or two skittered under a cabinet.
Arrivals and departures. Travel patterns of individuals. Families. Groups.
People of various languages and cultures and ethnicities. In the ebb and flow through airports.
Walking the halls. Rushing from one terminal to another.
Or sitting. Wandering. Sleeping.
While they wait.
Uninvited fears press against the window.
And slip in through the cracks.
Seeping into the throng of thoughts populating our minds.
Hitching themselves to “what if’s” and “why’s” and “how’s.”
