Logan Airport Blues

Waiting in the crowded terminal

for Flight Nineteen Fifty-Two

to Chicago, I heard a chorus

of harmonic oohs and words

too soft to comprehend over

the crowd. My tech-accustomed

brain suggested "music download?" But no,

it was three men and a woman (black)

singing a capella blues, with rhythmic snaps

and perfect pitch. Once done, they paused,

gave a loud and simultaneous laugh,

and carried on.