September 27 by The Running Son
◕The Waiting Station◕
the station’s clock, now nearly at full stop.
like a chill
as a passing hand
slows and stills. Dissonant moments resolve
into a tok.
I have come
to pick my true love up, but time removes
with a click
of the clock,
a breath lost, as the train speeds by, a Doppler’s
Waiting is my cost.
by Jim Aldrich (:
Written for the Daily Post Daily Prompt: Waiting
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.