in the james center starbucks, i
am distracted by the business
which parades in suit, by
the slow, slow sound
of winter dying, its feeble thuds
keeping time with my own unarmed
chest. there is a meek half-light
outside the windowed-walls,
the sun un-warm & indecisive.
i am afforded a first-class view
of the parking garage,
the crimson-awninged atm,
the bundled cafe umbrellas.
i am waiting, brokenly:
for a car crash, for a lightning strike,
to see someone i recognize.
for you to catch hold
of my cheek and say, come,
let me take you home.
it is more limbo than
purgatory, the waiting;
there is no redemption at its end,
only the promise of a flatter
mattress and yellowed teeth.
as the poet said: there
is evening, there is morning,
and i think i loved you better
when we were
desperate. besides i
quit being a good catholic
years ago, now only
remember my rosary
when digging through
the jewelbox for a gold
chain you also didn’t give me,
also years ago.
Joanna Suzanne Lee 
I really enjoyed the tone of the poem…just the right level of bitterness woven into it.
the right level of bitterness… yes. thanks, slp.
we don’t mark time so much as it marks us
indeed.
More than a decade later, I repeatedly make the attempt, only to fall again and return to the waiting.
Funny thing, I no longer know what I am waiting for, as what I envision seems to no longer exist.
I am not sure that it ever did…
e
it sounds sad when you put it that way, eric. but i think it is true for so many: we are all waiting, and a lot of us aren’t even sure for what, most days.
I love this. Thank you.
thank *you,* Sweetie!
A perfectly timed poem. With the dreary weather to set the stage for the word pictures you wove so beautifully. I particularly liked:
the sun un-warm & indecisive
it is more limbo than
purgatory, the waiting;
there is no redemption at its end,
Lovely
thank ya, lady! 🙂
This poem had a perfect tone – wistful, maybe malcontent, honest – I loved it, especially the ending.
thanks, goldberry. you’re too kind!
It is more limbo than
purgatory, the waiting
there is no redemption at its end,
only the promise of a flatter
mattress and yellowed teeth…..Joanna, I love the lines…the desperation, the realization . Sad …it draws me in, good write. I like the mention of the rosary and not being a good catholic and digging for the chain that was never given.
thanks, ayala. always appreciate your thoughts!
for a car crash, for a lightning strike,
to see someone i recognize….and i think i loved you more when we were desperate….ugh….it is different…waiting sucks…stuck in limbo as well…been there …and its not a lot of fun….
thanks, b. waiting does suck… sometimes. *smiles*
As always, you make the longing, the razor sadness a gorgeous, enviable state. It’s limbo, of course, and the Catholic iconography only helps to underscore how dear and true this pain is to your soul. A flatter mattress and yellow teeth – bril, as is the closing – where we all spend many years still looking for the fantasies that were never there to begin with. Please post a pic of you wearing your La Poetessa tiara. Loved this and the massive talent what wrote this – Mosky
isn’t that a poet’s job, to make the sadness an enviable state, to make the pain, art? sublimation is what we do, Mosk. 🙂 thanks for your always too-kind estimation. and i am still looking for that right tiara. 😉
Love this piece, awesome imagery.
thanks Kim, or Lisa. 🙂
There’s a wonderfully jaded, world-weary romanticism to this. I like the juxtaposition of familiar references points with the deeper resonances of the narrative.
thank you, Dick. that first part of your comment, “wonderfully jaded, world-weary romanticism,” feels like it about sums me up these days, perfectly. if i ever get this next collection of poems together, will you do me a review? *smiles*
Something about this piece conveyed a well-worn familiarity, like I was in conversation with an old friend. This was beautiful, and sad– the quiet sadness you feel in the midst of the realization you are growing older; have already left so much behind.
thanks, Ursa. it always means much to hear that something you write finds resonance with someone who reads it. *smiles*
Acres of great lines – “winter dying” ones being my favourite. That’s just special writing.
acres, eh? thank you, wanderer. *smiles*
Brave and beautiful – glad you dug it out…
thank you, scott
Really good. I especially like this: “the sun un-warm & indecisive”
welcome and thanks, indieflower!
This verse walks an infinitely narrow tightrope stretched above a sea of bitterness. I am in admiration of the images and metaphors, from the impersonality of suits, to the wayward rosary accidentally discovered. Beautifully crafted.
thanks so much, Samuel. high praise, from one such as yourself.