I’m not waiting for aging or changing,
for growing,
restoring, or
recreating
the mask.
I’m not waiting for structures to collapse
and reform
and reshape
and remake
themselves
from the ruins.
I’m not waiting for the revolution
in thinking,
in acting,
in feeling,
to happen
when the walls finally fall.
No.
I’ll dig the tunnels.
Then I’ll wait.
Wait for you
to scramble through
to greet me
then we’ll be away,
through
with our waiting.
First published in Fragments of Chiaroscuro, July 2016
© Lynn White
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