Monday, June 08, 2009

It's 5:26.

It's 5:26.  

Appointment at 4.

She has not called me yet.


Grandma surely wonders, 

if...if...if...
 
would it be heaven? 

would it be hell? 

I assure her, unsolicited, 

God hears all Her children.


Triangles awaken

as stubborn perrenials, 

raising with familiarity, 

nature's ironic patterns.


Women's chatter fills

the room,  Fill it.  Fill it.-

another familiar pattern. 

Space, anxiety, space, anxiety

Fill the anxiety.

Feel the anxiety.


It's 5:32.  

When will they call me?



Counting up the barters

to offer the Gods

in exchange for a 

most pleasant phone call.


It's 5:39.

1 comment:

  1. Dearest Faye...I've been reading, circling you from afar, so unsure what to say, and even though I have no idea what I could possibly do to make any of this better, I just wanted to...I don't know!...Just reach out and let you know that I'm thinking about you, all the time, and I'm wishing you peace and I have my fingers crossed for the most pleasant phone call.

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