deepundergroundpoetry.com
__back to our days__
I watch her, lazily, often mornings
once school lunches are made, sent,
dishes and my 'business' done,
she'll sit
tapping, scrolling, scanning cyberspace,
waiting...
She waits for him, I know, a friend-
about ten hours of time gap
checks the clock
taking into account he's busy living:
flying...
Stories sung and boisterous banter
flit across her face, relieved
grinning, gawking, seething squints-
she closes eyes
losing the now in been-and-done,
and far-away and likely-not;
dreaming...
Motion once the clock tells
he's composing, or sleeping in deepest blue
on moonlit truth.
Back to our days
but with future emerging from looming grays
some way, still
smiling.
once school lunches are made, sent,
dishes and my 'business' done,
she'll sit
tapping, scrolling, scanning cyberspace,
waiting...
She waits for him, I know, a friend-
about ten hours of time gap
checks the clock
taking into account he's busy living:
flying...
Stories sung and boisterous banter
flit across her face, relieved
grinning, gawking, seething squints-
she closes eyes
losing the now in been-and-done,
and far-away and likely-not;
dreaming...
Motion once the clock tells
he's composing, or sleeping in deepest blue
on moonlit truth.
Back to our days
but with future emerging from looming grays
some way, still
smiling.
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