Airbnb
You mustn`t have felt the waves
you made among the cyber birds
that swarmed your page,
where shoppers` voices swarmed
the air around your head,
midway that misty morning.
Slight totem, warming in the sun
stumbling above the sea, eyes
to your screen.
I could have slipped by, unseen.
Later, I learned
how many words we use to say
nothing, shining foils and pistols, noble
bloods among nimble morning trees
circling unsure,
lookouts misty, haloed and insecure.
How many steps before
we`d talk of Dante and her car, before
we`d saunter past police station and bar?
(I have followed the route again.)
How many miles to your Airbnb?
How many miles to Babylon?