so, the waiting

July 19, 2013 § 2 Comments

is there a special
dedication for
surviving in the land
of the atrophied?
perhaps a name
etched on a wall or
an honorary star
imprinted in concrete

do you picture this
the same way I do?
as a collective of
bad days shaken out
from the rest

I’ve listed the reasons to
keep moving, I
have held up for review
with routes clearly defined
but all around I witness
expanding rigor as
the ground beneath
us groans as roots
lodge deeper

is this the outcome of not noticing
a window closing
on the arc of the sun?

so, the waiting continues and
soon, the only light
will be that
which can be imagined
or wished for

(c) 2013 Fred Whitehead


§ 2 Responses to so, the waiting

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