( I would ask for feedback, as I consider submission with this piece )

~

I walk past every day

watching

while waiting

in wonder I imagine

where in time we wander

when a fleeting moment takes me away

~

Only if true this departure

remains

seductive in romantic airs,

a symbolic gesture toward passion.

Will there be a solution

beyond that visual apparition

keeps me nearby

waiting, bags packed again.

~

Step forward in motion

cry for the breeze that implies

a change in season,

perhaps a new autumn.

For a time,

have not a single chime,

yet hear as I stand,

waiting,

for that silent arrival.

~

Distant sounds,

nostalgia,

my bedroom as a child

listening to a world out of reach,

and wondering if my smitten innocence

might answer the call.

Is the whistle only heard

by those wandering souls

who wait in subtle repose?

That arrival is a necessary move,

a symbiotic revolution,

beforehand, as brief a quiet departure,

Wait …