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      January 1, 2023Christmas Vigil at Sacramento International AirportAlison Davis

      At a wobbly metal table, I sit sketching
      chalk dudleyas and milkweed. A woman
       
      behind me explains loudly into her phone
      that every seat on every flight on every other
       
      airline is booked. All the rentals cars in the county
      are taken. The hotels that shuttle to and from
       
      the airport are all full. More people keep flowing
      in through the double doors, eager-eyed
       
      and flanked with festive baggage. An agent
      with a megaphone continuously announces that
       
      all flights are canceled and no new reservations
      are being made. The woman behind me cries.
       
      I consider for a moment asking her to come home
      with me, imagine for a moment spending a night
       
      with someone I might love, comfort, even touch
      in some small way. She shuffles off before I can offer
       
      good tidings. I start shading the delicate blossoms
      of a globe gilia. A mother lays her coat on the ground
       
      and changes her newborn baby’s diaper then tucks
      the barely earth-kissed body into a stroller to sleep.
       
      They have nowhere to go. My ride arrives.
      The fog is too thick to see the stars.

      from Poets Respond

      Alison Davis

      “I spent two days at the Sacramento airport, trying to get a Southwest flight to Kansas City. We were all sent home on the first day and told to use the website or call customer service to rebook. The service line and the website were both down, so I went back to the airport to try and get us new flights. When I arrived, all the departure signs still showed that flights were leaving. By the time I left, each one had been canceled. While I waited to get picked up, I drew in my sketchbook, eavesdropped, daydreamed, and felt the weight of displaced people everywhere.”