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
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