Waiting

-a poem-

he waited for a bus that never came i told him sir the bus is not coming it stopped running five years ago but he didn't move his silver hair swept across the outline of his face his eyes held gray puddles staring wondering who took the color out i waited with him he spoke only a few words i am getting married today his fingers entwined melting into one mass a ring left unpolished sat on his finger she must be a lucky lady i replied he would not look at me he watched for the bus tip tapping his foot he glanced at his watch she smells like flour&redwine he replied after what felt like 103minutesofnothingness would he wait forever for a bus that would not come i nodded and said nothing there we sat sharing fireflies&silence it was delicious i became full ohimustgo i mumbled tripping quickly over my tongue he nodded turning slightly to smile a youreafoolishyounggirl smile i sat with him every night for three months we named fireflies august 4th i ran to the bench with my apron in my hand standing there on the corner waiting impatiently for traffice to clear i memorized his wrinkles&creases sculpted under his cheeks my lost job&apartment evicted faded behind me as i began running across the intersection for him my anchor he had become saltwettears flooded painting my face silk my hand swept shattering its grace my head lifted to see it

a bus pulled up at the stop he pressed his face against dirt streaked windows

and waved