Waiting
December 17, 2007
Once the absent-hearted waited
for the sound of footsteps and the
creaking of a gate
to fill the nooks of affection.
In their place now
the missing rings of phones
and empty subject fields
of unsent emails.
But still we listen,
against our better judgement,
for the words and sounds
of a message that never gets sent
and the footsteps that never come.
4 comments
Poetry? Impressive.
Wow, that’s pretty. Are you squeezing as much in (you know, poetry, life-saving) to the close of your extraordinary year as you can, or is this a sign of things to come?
Thanks Ed.
Wendy – I don’t know. I think it’s squeezing itself in, since I have no little control over the process.
Lovely poem. Makes me a bit melancholy.
Leave a comment. Play nice. I will turn this blog around.