Waiting. Always waiting.


Always waiting.

Writing scripts that never make it to the stage.

Writing love poetry to ghosts that haunt my heart.

Writing songs I can’t sing.


Waiting for a train

or a bus

or a ride from someone with an honest smile.

Waiting for my term to be up.

Waiting in the dark.

Weird dreams pick at the corners of my mind.

Waking with a wired jaw – tired

wrenched tight.

Why am I still waiting for my turn to speak?

I’m waiting.

Wind that big car up my drive.

Write an email to say goodbye.

I’m waiting for a good bye.


Without an umbrella in the rain.

Wade through puddles.

Waves lap my thighs.

Wait –

when is high tide?

Where’s the moon?

and why isn’t anyone else waiting for

The End.


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