Two strangers,
from a small town.
Chatting in a café,
near the gate.

The plane departs in an hour.

He looked at me,
so peacefully.
This rough,
tattooed man.
Little did I know,
he’d be dead in a week.

He had made up his mind.

Today, I am still grateful,
he said goodbye secretly.
Before his airplane took off.

This time,
without me.