It Waits
there’s something
to be said
about old love
it stands alone
at the window
watching the sun come up
and go back down
it sits at the table
in the chair
across
in a corner booth
a Sunday pew
it walks down the hall
ready for bed
but doesn’t sleep
it’s counting stars
and sheep
and all the years
the life it made
the photo album’s fat and full
the song’s still playing on the radio
like it did back then
the movies re-run
the book picked up
where it left off
finishing sentences
being the punchline
yelling back
trying not to laugh
picking up the phone
so the other don’t worry
holding the umbrella
the suitcase
waiting for the other
to come back out
all dressed up
and there were roses
without occasion
moments without saying
and you can’t explain it
to a newlywed
yeah, there’s something
to be said
about old love
and how it waits
TL