Forgive me
I don't know much
about waiting
for creeks to subside
for roads to harden again
for children to return
for pilots to declare
the air is safe again
or for the day to find me
something other than
this
waiting.
We did all our drinking
yesterday and last night
and sang happy birthday
and packed up our belongings.
Always somewhere
it is someone's birthday
and somewhere it is always
someone's time to go.
Like the birds here
we keep to the shade
of the trees
and sing of the present
that feels so deliciously like
waiting for something to happen.
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