.
In Waiting For
.
A dozen times I waited for
the whispered word to lay
a foundation and rise up into the sunlight –
glowing.
A thousand hours I have been
sitting, fixing the wheel, using the tools
at my disposal, subjugated to
this neophyte democracy, scheme
of constraint, holding vigil
to the past, in waiting.
In prayer, in the shower, behind broken
blinds, peering out, listening for the next move,
hearing a far-away crow, playground screams, idiot
conversations. A dozen times a dozen days playing
the sieve-taker, the monastic overseer, doing only
what the day allows, wondering where
the campfires burn and if they will ever burn
close, past midnight, for me.
.
Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
.
.
First published in “Tuck Magazine” January 2017
http://tuckmagazine.com/2017/01/12/poetry-684/
http://tuckmagazine.com/?s=allison+grayhurst&x=14&y=10
.
.
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
.
.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.