Wait for Me
Helen Wickes
Thin light on the path ahead,
wavering, cant see it,
now here again, your footsteps,
the starlight faint, fireflies’ light
muffled in the humid night air.
Cant make out that sound
bird maybe animal, no matter,
a living being, a comfort.
Youve gone on ahead,
following you is often boring,
exhausting, occasionally
thrillingtheres a moments
respite to hear the creek’s
thin trickle, to smell the watercress
crushed underfoot—so bright,
so bitter. Wait for me, Ill catch up
with you, any day now.
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