THE WAITING

Stephen Gibson

We watch these men pull out of their underground
Garages and punch the steering wheels
When lights go red before them and they are
Furious with this
Delay believing that their law firm or insurance
Agency or government
Should move them unconditionally
Through the evening crowd of people like us
Who stand under the awnings of used bookstores
To keep out of the rain in this first hour of neon
As it reflects across the covers of books
And magazines while offices empty and windows begin
Explaining how they color our eyes with what's not there
Like these ugly expensive women's shoes or travel
Posters insinuating what fun we should be enjoying in
The thinly lacquered grandeur of tropical beaches very
Very far from here where we stare in expectation of a
Silence that will arrive like Independence over
These flagpoles and rooftop ventilators
And our upwards pointed faces at rush hour's end
When the thinking clouds come back bringing with them
The real darkness which is our own