Tag Archives: Waiting

One Glass

I am one glass away from demanding he arrives
With his weathered boots
And long jacket
To my front door
With his wily words
And wicked ways

I am one glass away from destroying the state
I tried so hard to believe in
But failed so grandly
At making work
Only to watch it slip through
As granules of unrecognisable fate

I am one glass away from making myself a bed
Laying in it curled up
All vulnerable skin and appendages
Waiting for the turn
Waiting for the change
Because it will happen now or soon

I am one glass away from throwing it in the face
Of someone I once loved
But now only see
Through a lens of despair
And drained emotions
Now catatonic, in a state of non-repair


The nurses all calling out in the hallway
Wishing good luck, good times, good weekends
Their laughter over wheeled trolleys and cupped keys
Unintentionally ostracising those of us left behind surrounding closed doors

My own white knuckled, armchair embrace waits with me
For the sympathetic stares
The best-of-intention reassurances
And the bad tea and coffee served cold
I am left wondering how many times this chair
Has needed to hold just that bit tighter
To the person seated here, where I am
Trying to keep them together so as not to let them fall completely apart

The soundtrack to my shaking body and waiting area praying
Comes from his machines beside me
The transcending beeps and monitors with luminescent lights
Reassure my helpless, wrung hands that he is still there
And so am I
Always waiting

I know that right now
I am better off waiting
Than wanting

Seasonal Ache

The seasons have an ache
For more.
Summer has desire
For the drenching
Of heat.
Autumn has a need
For wiping away
Long days,
Wanting only
Clean lines and
Leaving you to
Enter the cave
Of self made
Winter arrives with
An empty fan fare
Of the white
Wind whispers
And need to share
Space and body;
Quiet Books.
Drawing all in
As you nurture
And in its finding
Of your mind
Lets go swiftly,
Setting free for Spring
To feel and touch again.
Spring frolics,
Each day more and more
Until it becomes too much
So full,
So heavy with the bounty
Of beauty
And cherished things
That it rises
With joy
To welcome
The overwhelming
Of Summer
Once again.