A Waiting Epistle

Dearest You,
I’m waiting for the bells to fall
silent, for time to stop with me.
I’m waiting on a fleeting train
that has already left the station.
I’m waiting in this room where
the walls are yellow and far too cheery
for my waiting.
I’m waiting for the jazz to die
and the lights to go out.
I’m waiting on a daydream, on you
to appear at the door
with that leather jacket and a book.
I’m waiting because no one
else has taken your place.
Here I stand, the tracks lay
waiting in front of me.
I don’t have forever, yet
forever is no time at all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s