Waiting –
The days long
And nameless
Twisting under my
Hands like a feral
Cat. It’s claws
Rake my arms
Demanding release.
The sting reminds
Me that I must hold on
Even as teeth bite
Down, drawing blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Perfect in its preciseness. Yes, indeed, waiting bites even the most patient of souls. And, like holding your breath and waiting to breathe, the longer you have to - the harder it gets, it seems. Wishing you well, ~Christine