Waiting

The old man sits
His hands aged from waiting
The door creaks and draws his attention
It is pointless
Hope has eluded him again
Every time is the same
The door settles quietly
The man returns to solitude
He is always waiting
The door creaks but he is lost
He doesn’t even look
All hope is gone
The door settles softly
People try to offer help
He is deaf to the world
The door creaks
He comes to notice
There is a tear in his eye
He knows now
As they deliver a flag and belongings
The door settles
He sits still, waiting
For the finial reunion
Yet his funeral is silent
He gleams under his medals,
Which cost him his family while he was away,
They waited too for him to return

copyright 2004 © Logan Brown