Waiting

i found her poems in the back of my notebook like the back of my mind where she has been lurking a desire denied these are long days of waiting to wait some more gazing out of my grimy windows beads of snow rushing past while i'm waiting sleep never shows up on time he keeps his own schedule i must be at the bottom of the list praying for his good graces to escape from the waiting these days are long her poems were written on pretty paper multi-colored and festive much like the author memories of orange thongs her nimble fingers dancing across her center these days are long reading her poems and waiting