Musty eye weight

Must I?

Like a burning stinging sight

The tear blurred light

No. Not me.

Eyes so dry

They belong on a British tele

Yet a deadpan face

Belies all that happens inside

And the eager tail-chasing race

Of puppy dog hopes abide

In this eye-browed, scruffy-bearded kennel

In the quiet minutes of the night

I think I must fight

Hours and days

That hang like a weight around my neck

A weight of waiting

And as I weigh theses hours

Against the days that went before

I think I can take a few more

But I want to know what’s in store

So I can purchase or walk away

But that’s not how it works today

That’s just selfish and mean

(As in: on the fence)

That’s not the routine

(I don’t even know how to fence)

I wait?

Not sure, perhaps a few ounces

A few too many perhaps.

Eyes weigh heavily on the mind

Ounces don’t weigh into it

Pounds and tons neither.

A ton perhaps

As a wait and not a weight

A ton of waiting to see those eyes again

But I’ll try the part of a patient man

I’ll play my act

(It’s the little button with the triangle)

Wait for the finale

(And the crescendo!)

Skip the applause

(The joys of modern technology)

Hop off the stage

(I swear it was genuine)

Go out the door

Of this week, month (or however long it takes)

And dance with a smile

Into her arms

Must I wait?