There I sat
in Not-So-Grand-Central-Station,
waiting, just waiting
for a tap on a shoulder
or a smile from across crowds
and an awkward little moment
with that awkward little wave,
when you made your way over
and I didn’t know whether to get up,
or stay in my rather uncomfortable seat.
But that awkward little moment
when we see each other,
was long awaited, and even longer delayed.
Every moment it seemed hard to breathe,
as I waited and waited,
and watch the people around me change.
For a while, I was self conscious, thinking
how everyone must be wondering what I was doing,
just sitting here,
for hours and hours,
hands folded, people watching,
for I’d forgotten a book.
But then I realized, that everyone who’d seen me before
were already gone,
already got their little awkward moments over,
when they met who they were meeting,
and left, shining eyes and shining laughs
making my anticipation all that much stronger.
And I continued waiting, watching everyone else
with their beaus and their beauties,
and wallowed as they walked away,
“Why must mine be so late?”
After a while, hunger started voicing its concerns
for my health, and while I wanted
to reassure my stomach with some food,
I knew that you’d come while I was gone,
and we’d miss each other.
So there I sat, knees pulled in with crossed ankles,
dress lightly brushing my calves,
tickling my skin every so often,
stomach growling and mind confused.
I glanced at the clock every so often,
watching the second hand slowly jerk
back and forth, followed by the stronger and sturdier
minutes and hours chasing it.
It was when the seconds hands
had passed far too many numbers,
as had the minute and hour hands,
that I slowly gathered my bag
reluctant to leave its comfortable spot behind my feet,
placed its heavy weight on my shoulder,
and strode out of that station
with as straight a back as I could manage.
I do hope that my sunglasses hid my tears.
Time imagery is one of my favorites!