Poem #2,703 | Gatwick Arrivals

Gammon will be incensed
by how unwhite this place
of hijabs & crocheted caps
& glad men in thawbs is – I
wait on my friend’s shuffle-
walk through Arrival doors
as others are welcomed by
a hug & love & language of
foreign shores – trolley-full
landings of laughter & eye-
out-for greeters – this is my
beautifully rich homeland –
a place that needs this life-
line of richer blood to stay
[& make it less about hate]