The Appointment Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb
The Appointment
The waiting game
of discomfort.
Dull fury,
a fuming cloud
that covers thought
without relief
is impatient.
Wait, I hear a clatter,
the dusty doormat
has received an appointment
for her future.
She opens with trepidation
her future
that is in
the long distance.
She waits, once more,
with anxiety.
If time turns
its back on her again
life may be the late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 9:01:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Very atmospheric - I wonder what the appointment was for, but I believe we have all felt such trepidation at some time.