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AT THE AIRPORT BAGGAGE CLAIM

We contemplate a parade of skis,
boxes, bags, and attachés.
Some of them, unclaimed
the first time by, meander
all the way around and out,
dumb and colorful as cows.
A deaf woman watches
her husband talk in sign.
I cannot read his tongue
of wrist and fingertip
although there seems a sadness
as his hands fold finally
into themselves.
On his shoulders sits a little boy
whose hands, above the father's head,
are making up a second story —
something, I think, about a plane.



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