Waiting Poem by Pontsho PCP Pusos
Waiting
The clock waits,
At thirteen forty-five.
“Cluck”, it says
And only shifts a second.
Then waits.
For your arrival.
Another second later;
It sits and waits.
Maybe to help keep
Your punctuality record.
I suffer the wait,
Resisting the urge to kick at it.
Instead I squat and watch
The damn thing
Willing it on
Then begging it to hurry
And hasten your arrival.
“Cluck, ” is all it says
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 6:46:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
