Sonneteer's note: this sonnet was composed on the afternoon of Wednesday, August 25 in the Cleveland airport, but a lack of wi-fi there prevented its being posted until now. Well, that and a Guinness-laden tweet-up and other adventures in Toronto.
An afternoon in Cleveland, fierce and bright
Outside these airport windows no one knows
Just who I am or why I'm here. I fight
The urge to howl "hello," see how it goes,
If anyone will answer, if I'll trip
Obsucre alarms and make a watch list, or
If someone else with time to kill who's hip
To what I dig will speak up. Hey, my score
In this regard is high; three on the plane
That brought me here from Denver talked sci-fi
With me at length, Ben Bova in the main,
But Stephenson and Gaiman, too! I sigh
Though. In Atlanta, coming home in May
I nearly missed a flight in just that way!
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