Baklava in Qatar

I return to the lounge

At Hamad Airport

Doha

Qatar

Out of hope

A hope to regain an experience 

Of one of my first adventures 

When I knew nothing

And planned poorly

And whiled away

Twelve hours

Exploring the airport

Stopping often to refuel

At the piled offerings of baklava 

Stacked in sticky sweet towers

Myriad varieties

Something like ambrosia

From the gods on Olympus 

Presented free of charge

In seemingly unlimited quantities 

But they are yet to return

But still I try

Because that is the better story

Than boring butter cookies

And dry crumbly mini muffins

With gross candied fruit in them

And it is more crowded now 

And the layovers are too short

To make an argument for going there

Even for a brief check-up

So it lives in a dream