the wait is long sometimes
eventually it drifts to nothing,
melting to a memory
you don’t recall,
a passing glittering
Christmas tree sparkle
in moonlight
the click starts it again,
the wait from their first words
to the time when they ask.
They always ask
The prize they seek,
hidden among the rest
The hellos the goodbyes
The how are you’s
the game begins
They search
you give
they grab
and the wait starts
Fading again
(c) Frank McGivney 28.01.15
Words I love to write 