Passport

A lone traveler arrives at the terminal, bags in hand,
Laden with a lifetime of memories.
All farewells, finally spoken.
Everything left tidy as she intended.
Nothing left to do but move on.

The boarding line is long today,
But it gives her time to reflect
On all the things she’s seen and done—
Looking back fondly on loved ones
Now left to pack their own bags with memories.

Her number is finally called.
The agent’s face is kind, familiar.
He glances at her passport.
Everything seems to be in order.
He smiles and stamps the page.

“Welcome home, my dear.
I’ve been waiting here for you.”
She smiles, takes his hand,
And together they depart.