The Terminal

by Robert Lloyd Jaffe

Passing through this busy terminal
we bumped ourselves
into each other
and stopped for a moment
at this crossroad in the middle of nothing
and not at any particular edge,
we made something.
Still we look
and still unsure
of what we have made
we touch and taste
our salty skin,
stare in wonder at our kin.
That day in the terminal
while going so fast
on our ways
both at the same time
were looking for something dropped
and found it,
at that moment we stopped
.