Waiting
I waited for my brother by the swings
a long time,
and a long time for a child
seems to ache
I waited an hour
or was it a lifetime?
And then after a lifetime
walked home
He smiled at me at the open door
touched his hand to his heart, and said
I was waiting for you here.
Sailors
Walking the cliff path I speak of Iris,
I must fly home. His response is venom,
turning away from my SOS.
It is useless to cry out his name,
the storm has come. Below us the land falls
sharply away to the sea, where Freya’s
half mast sail is beaten by the same wall
of wind that carried my voice far
seaward, as I tried to explain. Waves
have thrown us, but for only a short while.
The moon parts the clouds and the darkness fades;
his smile forgives. We touch, walk a mile
to the quay. He will stay, I will go,
yet the forecast is fair, tomorrow.
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