By Jim Furgerson
Scared.
The long flight home.
Cold, dark, alone.
Would you still want me?
Scared.
Roar of the engines
Drown out the words.
Can’t think.
Scared.
Smell, the jet fuel,
The pungent cigar smoke,
The sweet aroma of Chanel No. 5.
Scared.
My mouth is dry.
Can’t taste,
Can’t talk.
Scared.
The touch of your kiss.
I’m home, holding you,
The girl I love.
Scared.