Waiting

You are a stillpoint in my attention,
I rest easily upon your smile
And your heart that drifts on an eastwardly wind,
Indifferent all the while.
You’re waiting for a place to stand,
I’m standing at that place,
Generally yielding to
That faraway look upon your face.
But I was never good at waiting,
Waiting wears thin…
While you hold back from what could be
Holding onto what might have been.

* de - april 2003