Tag Archives: waiting

Cancer Center

The waiting room
is without warmth—
grays and blues
and faces
lined with concern
sallow with fear
some of them
seeking answers
some of them
wringing their hands
with a knowledge
they hope
to radiate away
and it’s hard to tell
the difference
between
the body language
of the sick
and those
who are writhing
uncomfortably
waiting
for their loved one
to become a ghost.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
12-19-17

 

Waiting Room

I am not impatient this time
waiting for my turn
to lay back in the chair and open wide—
there are children whispering loudly
and bells dangling from the door
announcing everyone’s exit and entry
but it all goes on without me
like the volume is turned way down
on just another reality TV show—
I am lost in yesterday.
I am full of the heat that followed us
into the woods and I can only hear
the song of the warblers,
those black and white ones
who provided our sound track
as we kissed on the fallen hickory—
and after I am rattled into alertness
by the sound of my name
I’ve got nothing to do for 15 minutes
but close my eyes
and let both my hands rest on my belly
while I consider where you’ve touched me—
and I don’t even need five fingers to count
the number of times we’ve made love
but in this noisy and populated darkness
I am alone with your body
and we are filling up our hands.

 

 

 

DeMaris
6-12-17

 

 

Still Life

The thing is—
he could
he can
he does
cut me open
sometimes
just by leaving
me alone
when the space
between us
begs to be
closed
reduced
punctuated
by a word
or a promise
of nearness
but there is
so much
silence
emptiness
doubt
filling me up
I don’t know
if there will be
room for him
when he—
if—
he decides
to come.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
4-18-17

“Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog” by Caspar David Friedrich, 1818

Finally

Be my guide into twilight—
lead me to a place
where I can at last lay down
against your warm bare skin
long enough for all our fears
to float away before I touch
your lips with mine—
and when you pull me close
I will finally breathe again
after this long wait is over
and you will find the kind
of love you told me once
you never thought you’d have.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
2-11-17

“The Romance of Tristram and Iseult” by Maurice Lalau, 1909

Waiting

I float into the night
anticipating
how you will feel
tomorrow
when there is nothing
between us
but warm water
and skin so lonely
we will need
to cover each other
with tenderness
to help ease
the exit wound
that will follow us home
after we pick up
our blankets
from the forest floor
and kiss goodbye.

 

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
1-25-17

“Sun Shield” Andrew Wyeth, Watercolor 1982