I Wait (By Catherine Matchuk)

tree and glass window

By Gabe Reyes

Sounds muffled, musicians play to the night.
Off the water and across the sand,
I sit and wait for you.

I break my watch against the stone, it cracks and freezes,
but time has already been frozen for years.
Alone, I wait.

Your time is more valuable than mine,
what you do is more important,
according to you.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” you say.
A clever way not to say, “I don’t do it at all.”
Still, I wait.

I must be patient, must love the stillness of this old place.
The window is ancient, it’s dirty, in need of cleaning.
I cannot watch for you through it, though I long for your return.
I will wait.

For someone with such a bright vision,
you fail to see what’s in front of you,
and I,
I see too much.

Perhaps you’ve forgotten me,
perhaps you never did remember,
since you have not told me to go,
I stay,
and I wait.

Advertisements