Stood in the rain and I debated
to stay, to go and so I waited,
'til the day became the night
and I realized with certain fright,
that you would not come.
I gripped my hands and I stifled
thoughts that with my heart you'd trifled;
that I the calm, the undemanding
would be left in the rain standing
and you would not come.
My hair became a matted mess
and glued to me became my dress.
Powerless was I to move my feet
as water spat out from the street.
But you did not come.
Afternoon and school children passed
and when heaving, I'd seen the last,
I knew then but could not mention
the cruelty of your intention--
that you would not come.
Now the city has gone to sleep
and my own company I keep.
But I will stay and man my post,
sleeping in a box at most.
Maybe then you'll come.
Then you'll come.
You'll come.
Please COME.
to stay, to go and so I waited,
'til the day became the night
and I realized with certain fright,
that you would not come.
I gripped my hands and I stifled
thoughts that with my heart you'd trifled;
that I the calm, the undemanding
would be left in the rain standing
and you would not come.
My hair became a matted mess
and glued to me became my dress.
Powerless was I to move my feet
as water spat out from the street.
But you did not come.
Afternoon and school children passed
and when heaving, I'd seen the last,
I knew then but could not mention
the cruelty of your intention--
that you would not come.
Now the city has gone to sleep
and my own company I keep.
But I will stay and man my post,
sleeping in a box at most.
Maybe then you'll come.
Then you'll come.
You'll come.
Please COME.
###
Poem by Pamela Tyree Griffin
Previously published by the delightful Unfettered Verse
Photo by Dovile Cizaite
