Poetry

In the Waiting

In the Waiting

Second nature, its becoming, to stare at the minute hand. To wish the in-between away.   It becomes numbing, The unravel of the unplanned. Weary overtakes the day-to-day   But...

In the Waiting

Second nature, its becoming, to stare at the minute hand. To wish the in-between away.   It becomes numbing, The unravel of the unplanned. Weary overtakes the day-to-day   But...