The Watchers Poem by Eric Gibson

The Watchers

Rating: 5.0


We all wait for words of
Love or pictures.
Refreshing web pages over and over
Waiting for bold-printed guests,
For blessings.

Derek's keyboard ticks and scurries
Across electrons and protocols to speak
To his wife.

Eric explodes into sighs thinking of his love
And her sleeping frame,
Quiet as a thought.
He loves that part of her.
The sleeping part.
She breathes out rolling meadows
And calm eternities.
An arm around her,
Letting her warmth,
A tiny sun,
wash over him.
He lies,
A grateful stranger in this place.

Jay asked me to keep an eye on Derek
And Alana.
Jay nurtures tiny strategies to keep a
Shallow harmony amongst his friends.
We're always looking for places that we've
Misplaced our trust.
We social skeptics.

In a country of waiting-room lives,
Humans carry their plans and
Envy and
Suspicions to reside next to them.
We,
Armed with defensive emotions and
Shameful weirdness,
Dig and build
And sing
And die
And mourn
While celebrating the imperfections of our lives
Like timid masochists.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Goldy Locks 01 December 2008

'Like timid masochists.' Fabulous~! I especially too like this line: Jay nurtures tiny strategies to keep a/Shallow harmony amongst his friends. It is a game of waiting, you are exactly right. take care, goldy

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