Memphis Homecoming

She is waiting;
I can feel it.
I have traveled
For ages
Just to be here now,
And she is waiting.
I can feel it.

I am jet-blown,
Disheveled,
Walking,
Zombie-like,
Through cold airport corridors,
Sterile and impersonal,
Heading for warmth,
For comfort,
For the solace of a smile;
And she is waiting.
I can feel it.

Through locks of tousled hair
Hid beneath a fog of cigarettes
And jet-way grime,
I can see her;
Eyes penetrating,
Radiating,
Searching.
She is waiting.
I can feel it.

And then I see her
Smiling,
Hair spilling down
Over soft, warm shoulders.
We embrace.
Her arms around me,
And mine around her,
We embrace.
Warm, soft comfort.
We embrace.
We stick.
I can feel it.
I am home.