This was inspired by my friend Eve's poem "Early Morning Buzz". Seems like waiting in line is another of my writing themes. Time put to good use twice: once using it to read; twice recreating it in my own words.
Line, Please!
6/7/2010
You touch me gently
on my silent shoulder, wanting
only for me to pay attention
to the pharmacy tech calling
my forgotten name.
I've been lost in the Beloved
again and again and again
there under those florescent lights,
humming under respirations
so feeble as to be undetected.
You may treasure a lost reader
in your own family, to have
touched me with such care,
to speak in soft tones,
unwilling to startle the strange
woman with her miniscule book
and word saturated mind.
Wish I'd taken a better
look at you, noticed something more
than the emptied pocket
of your blue/grey/white plaid shirt,
when I realize too much
later you're the first man
in far too many painful years
to touch me without permission.
But for someone subsumed
in the grace and glory of
a passionate and well spun phrase,
I fail to capture even one whirling word
among those gleaming pearls
on a tender shoot of flaxen thread
to recognize your simple gesture.
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