wait!
wait for me, wait up
I may be late
wait, don’t rush me.
your game:
I wait
we’ll meet
later
not just yet
you’ll arrive
as soon as…
you set a new time.
so I’ll wait
I play the game.
Thus waiting
is my recurring gift
to you,
the proof
that you have been waiting for,
that you are worth
the wait.
Marie-Andree Auclair’s poems have found homes in many print and online publications in Canada, the USA, UK, Ireland and Australian, most recently in Bywords; Flo Lit Magazine; and forthcoming in Blue Lake Review; The Sierra Nevada Review; and Blue Line Review. She lives in Canada.
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