Sharing with The Sunday Muse #231.
I’m waiting on her here,
just leaning
between shade, sun, and car door.
Gotta pickup here, back entrance.
Gotta pickup here, back entrance.
You’d never know that the sound
Washing against the city
Washing against the city
isn’t
the ocean but a crowd.
She’ll be here.
Just a few minutes more.
Just a few minutes more.
We’re
going to emptiness, some restaurant
Used to drive by, smell pepperoni and family, smell America.
Used to be.
Used to drive by, smell pepperoni and family, smell America.
Used to be.
Dust and sunlight
and old brick—
now serving a new album.
Do they have those anymore?
Do they have those anymore?
Wax
and silver? Great black speakers?
Roll over you
Roll over you
like that crowd
floods and puddles in the traffic noise.
She knows I’m waiting.
She knows I’m waiting.
Waiting
for her. Waiting for yesterday.
She’s got a song about old starlight and I can feel it here
Sticking to the hot asphalt,
She’s got a song about old starlight and I can feel it here
Sticking to the hot asphalt,
fused in the shadows,
staining windowsills.
Gotta wait.
Gotta wait.
New starlight on
the back of my shoulders, drowned in sound.
Finally seeing a little bit of fall weather and I've moved out on the patio to annoy the birds and pretend I'm in summer camp. Hoping you have a bit of that tucked-away-in-the-fresh-air calmness this week!
-- Chrissa
Waiting for whatever reasons can be most frustrating. there are so much to rekondle in memory of good times together but the person is not there!
ReplyDeleteHank
Here we are having day-long rains. No fun for flood areas.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday Chissa. Its interedting how busy his task of waiting is. It could be tiring too.
Much❤lovr
Hopefully not waiting in vain.
ReplyDeleteWaiting for yesterday. I relate. Remembering that song about old starlight. I miss the days of stereos and turntables. Music has never sounded the same since.
ReplyDeleteIt is like you have captured a moment and a time both at once here Chrissa. Absolutely beautiful!
ReplyDeleteHow splendid your poem ... I sense his anticipation, his depth, waiting for yesterday.
ReplyDelete"She knows I’m waiting.
ReplyDeleteWaiting for her. Waiting for yesterday."
Like many others. Love this, Chrissa!