the wait

you haven’t arrived…
and i’ve waited quite long—
paced sidewalks, twiddled
my thumbs, tapped on the table
and drummed my way out of bide
but you are nowhere seen or
have i become weary, so
unrecognizable even that you
steer off the path and i can
no longer sense you (as easily
as i thought i could; though
i know very well how age can
diminish this flesh) and i am
sorry, i hardly left a trail
for you to follow

© mr gahon 5/27/15


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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