Waiting

I had a spare stamp
to mail the final draft
— my short string of words,
formal and friendly
with no trace of emotion.
I caulked the crack
and secured the latch;
— tried to quiet the racket
in my chest.
Still, the refrain refused
to be tempered.
The real words were waiting
for lightening to strike.

 

Prompt: Sunday Wordle and Poetic Bloomings.

 

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12 thoughts on “Waiting

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