Waiting For His Call

woman wearing blue denim jacket putting her right arm on her cheek
Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on Pexels.com

Waiting For His Call

As she wakes to the wrench of the radio’s blare,
She’s not there.
As she tries to decide on the blouse she should wear,
She’s not there.
As she dawdles her breakfast of yoghurt and pear,
As she spends all her morning with coffee and stare,
As she foregoes her lunch for pilates with Claire,
She’s not there.
And all her afternoon that passes in her chair,
And on the bus and on the train while fishing for her fare,
And waiting at the checkout as she vaguely winds her hair,
She is always and never quite there.

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