WAITING FOR FOREVER
In Flint, Michigan
I passed an orange house
Across from a green house
With a yellow car in the driveway.
And both houses were separated by
Yards of shallow white snow.
The blue house down the street
Had footprints in the snow going to
A brown door that was between two
Windows and both windows had lights
To show those who lived there
The way home.
The cold in the air under a
New bright blue sky
Whispered of coming changes.
And days later, when I reached
My own home, all I could see
Was beige sand, beige sand
And grey waveless water
Waiting for the hot summer
To come and break the still air
Filled with no sounds except for
The squawk of one seagull
Flying overhead pretending
The day would last forever.
© Marjorie J. Levine 2024
