On Landing

Jan. 1988

for Beauty personified

She backed away
Wouldn't say why

He wouldn't cry
So the Heavens opened for him

He waited all day to talk to her
First fighting the boredom, then a snowstorm
Finally, at home, he sat anticipating
The phone rang - it was for someone else
He sat back down - heart pounding
Once again the phone rang
Once again it rang for someone else
He grew worried, depressed.

Was his future,
So carefully assembled,
Once more slowly crumbling?

Much as he wanted to,
Hard as he tried,
He could not even cry.

But the Heavens had opened for him ...

The phone rang again ...
Taunting ...
Baiting ...

The minutes passed.

Still he is waiting, anticipating
Still he is waiting, minutes to hours
Slowly accumulating.

© Copyright 1978-2009 by Preston V. McMurry III

Poetry Main