MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Fish Arrival by Leslie Tribolet

Poetry


Waiting

Anita Simpson

Her body surrounded by blood-red fabric
Lies cold in the strangely early dawn.
Did the earth move in its orbit as it tried to save her?

The sun rises with brilliance but is soon supplanted
By cold rain that turns to sleet, stinging my eyes
Which remain open for her sake
Although she knows nothing now.
I catch the ice in my hands, my mouth
Until they grow numb, but my heart stays warm.
You are not in hell, as you expected.

Time becomes a speeding bullet train
That moves the world around me
As I stand still and wait for my day
My turn to die, my chance to see you once again.
I believe it will come soon.
Not in hellish fire or ice, but in pleasant warmth
Where time has disappeared, you wait.

Days, months, years fly by. The world
Is nothing more than a buzzing insect
Annoying, but of no consequence.
The flames singe my feet, the ice tries
To numb my brain, but I resist the urge
To make haste to find you.
You will be there if I wait.

My body surrounded by blood-red fabric
Lies cold in the strangely early dawn.
The waiting is over.

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