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.
Written while sitting on the balcony of my slum apartment in Flagstaff, AZ, during a rain storm.
