He had a plan to get home.It was long overdue.
In the middle of an unfamiliar silence he carried his plans forward, filed alphabetically in his mind under TO DOs,
Until his plans, like a gust of wind, shifted
And he found himself out of order,
in a waiting room
An endless hush gave him time to notice the seams of whiteness where the corners of two walls kissed and ended.
And as time shuttered and flickered beyond the edge of his thoughts
He thought that waiting was like holding his breath.
But threaded to him,
Away from him,
waiting for a doctor,
waiting for him,
waiting on death
waited his love
And time became the unstoppable army
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