| Are you waiting there behind the door?
Then come my book is closed and on the table. My glasses folded in their case are set aside The sheets are pulled neat and folded over. It's been a lovely afternoon. I sat Beneath the window and worked a pattern From colored bits I've collected through the years And kept tangled in a box. Now designed, It sits there on the chair, clean and neat and finished. Sometimes I've longed to go back
to those arms
|
|
|