"Passport, Please!"

Mar 1999 Flying Stone

I look forward to a flight
into a country where I never have been before.
In the night before we leave
I pack my suitcase and I do not sleep a minute, I'm excited.


Oh, I cry: "That is not fair!
You were so happy 'bout the chance to make that journey!"
"That is not fair!" My flat hand beats
on the sink in our bathroom where I stand and cry.

"Your passport, please!" No harmless question!
Because I had no visa, my friends had to depart without me.
Within two days a heavy fight,
uncounted phone calls, a dangerous car trip, but then I got it:
My visa!

Tired but happy, I take the phone.
to call my family at home to tell my story.
And suddenly all my trouble
not important any longer: My father struggling with the final night!