What they want

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

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