The Wait


The Wait

She waits at the window
and watches the road
For a man that never comes home.
She chokes back the tears,
and swallows her fears.
She longs for his touch,
the taste of his skin,
his body next to hers in the bed.
She can still hear his voice,
see his face, smell  his scent
As though he only left moments ago.
She rocks in her chair,
continues to stare
As the clock on the wall stands still.
They've told her he's missing
They've presumed that he's dead
but her heart tells her that it's not so.
She caresses the belly
Where a new life is growing
determined to make it all right.
While she waits at the window
and watches the road
for a man that she knows will come home.

And he did!


ęD.W.Rickard 1974