Treasure Island

David Wood

(07 April 1950 / London)

Waiting


Standing on my front step
Leaning against the door frame
I wait with frozen hands for -
The post man.

The streets stray cat sits on
Number eighteen’s window ledge
Licking its cold body after
Last night’s supper of rodents.

Smoke rises from tall chimneys
Standing to attention in monotonous row.

Cars drive down the street going
To work in the factories only to wait
In cold car parks for their owners return.

Today I am waiting for a letter,
Its journey across the country
Being unassumingly ordinary.

Minutes tick by as the world turns
I clench my fists then rub my hands.
The clock bends time slowly at first
As I wait and wait and wait.

Time slowly dripping off the wall clock
Eating into the day. Time marching on.

Submitted: Sunday, May 12, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 16, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I wonder how much of our lives we spend waiting for something or somebody.

Comments about this poem (Waiting by David Wood )

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  • Patti Masterman (5/15/2013 9:45:00 AM)

    I like the last lines of the poem about time. They are such a strong ending.
    Time is the stern benefactor of our days, you seem to be saying at the conclusion. Great stuff. (Report) Reply

  • Diane Hine (5/14/2013 8:29:00 AM)

    At other times when we're rushing around, we would never notice all those small interesting things (cat, chimneys etc) that have contributed to this fascinating poetic image. (Report) Reply

  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (5/13/2013 9:52:00 PM)

    A nice poem waiting obviously it is time related /Sometime we enjoye the waiting though its boring sometime we wait for unwanted / for me waiting is disgusting/Time slowly dripping off the wall clock, Eating into the day. Time marching on. what a beautiful line then last but two and one perfection well penned (Report) Reply

  • Shahzia Batool (5/13/2013 2:15:00 PM)

    Yes, you are right we spend time in waiting but we do not waste time in most of the cases, as waiting is that abstract action while performing it we do so many things! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • Joan Smith (5/13/2013 6:09:00 AM)

    Life is but a waiting game unfortunately but this guy does seem to capture the feeling right (Report) Reply

  • Allemagne Roßmann (5/12/2013 4:21:00 PM)

    Thats how poetry turns the tide in this one.Nothing more as words could be more gigantic in expressions so exquisite.Great write Sir. (Report) Reply

  • Paul Brookes (5/12/2013 12:48:00 PM)

    Yeah it can seem like time stands still when your waiting for the post Good write BB : O) (Report) Reply

  • Dave Walker (5/12/2013 11:26:00 AM)

    I really love this and it's so true. We are a nation of waiters.
    And the post is always late. (Report) Reply

  • Valerie Dohren (5/12/2013 8:48:00 AM)

    It seems to me that we spend our lives waiting, for one thing or another. Very well penned as always David. (Report) Reply

  • Allen Steble (5/12/2013 7:33:00 AM)

    Nice poem, I enjoyed the mystery in this poem as you waiting for the postmen, nice poem. (Report) Reply

Read all 12 comments »

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