The Irish flock inside the gates,
Huddled by hugs and kisses, well wishes,
And such and such.
A mother’s tears are filled, willed
With the joy of seeing her boy
Back from America.
A Spanish clan come man to man,
In hands they hold and walk
Among the Irish who have returned
For a week of wine and fun.
My cigarette lights its end
As I send my well wishes
In brows and stares,
Fair carried my bags to the bus.
It’s a time like this we see
Humanity has a joyful solemnity
And Dublin Airport is happy now.
Just as sleighs make way for sights,
Delight children through a sleepless night,
So too does the gate open way to tears
And cheers a many
Irish family bring.
If I could sing, I would,
And take the scene with me,
For my next flight home.
Eoghan Lyng is an Irish man and sometime writer. He lives in Glasgow, having written from the perspective from Cork, Madrid and Prague. He has written for OutlawPoetry, VadaMagazine and FromTheLighthouse.