On My Return from a Business Trip

Let go of my arm. I will not wait
until I’m the last person on the plane.
Go away. I never asked for assistance.
What? I don’t want that wheelchair.
I’m fine. Let me walk.
Let me feel the spring
of my fiberglass cane off the walls.
What? I don’t want the elevator.
Leave me alone. I don’t know what color
my bag is and I don’t care.
No, it won’t take forever.
Go away. I’m fine kneeling here.
No. No. Yes. See?
I told you it wouldn’t take forever.
Now will you please go away?
What? I’m just waiting, like you.
Let me feel the air get sucked away
just before the shuttle pushes it back.
No need, no need. I can step off
by myself. Let me go. Let me go home.
Go away. Let me walk
with my bag rolling behind me in the sun.
Let me veer off here
onto the grass. No, I’m not lost.
Go away so I can find out
whether it’s indeed spring.