The Paris Flight
A human who was Paris bound
Had bought his tickets, since he found
It cheaper booking in advance.
Then, at the airport, just by chance,
He met a man who looked quite French
Beside him sitting on the waiting bench.
The human thought the Frenchman might
Be also waiting for the Paris flight
And so he started on a conversation
About his dogs, some far-away relation,
About his wife, his daughter, and his son.
Nonstop he prattled on and on.
The Frenchman quietly just sat,
The other kept on with his chat
About Los Angeles and traffic woes; -
But then his flight was called, he rose,
The Frenchman smiled, inclined his head,
He hadn't understood a word the other said.
But when they parted they shook hands
As if they were the best of friends.