Waiting in the usual place

I waited for you in the usual place.

In time a small bird landed on a branch, a whistle sounded in the woods but there was no way of knowing if it was this bird.

Was that you?

Doubtful, I never heard you sing.

I waited for you in the usual place.

A moose calf meandered past, in no hurry so his mother must have been close.

Was that you?

Doubtful, there is nothing at least apparently maternal about you.

But I still waited for you in the usual place.

Clouds drifted by, occasionally blocking the sun for a moment.

Was that you?

Doubtful, though you have occasionally obscured the light.

I waited for you in the usual place.

Snow covered the higher peaks, allowing them the appearance of renewing their virginity for the ressumption of winter and hiding scars carved by their summer invaders.

Was that you?

Doubtful, there is nothing virginal about you, though I know you bear the scars.

I waited for you in the usual place.

A fish jumped and splashed in the river.

Was that you?

Doubtful, you have never been one to express much joy.

I waited for you in the usual place.

Across the way children laughed in their play.

Was that you?

Doubtful, though I have never heard your laugh.

I waited for you in the usual place.

A woman's voice called for the children.

Was that you?

Doubtful, though I have never heard your voice, unless that was you hanging up after a hesitatnt "hello" the other day.

Indoors, in the usual place, words appeared on a screen.

Was that you?

No, not your words.  And words were all we had; as I must have been to you, you were to me only words on a screen.

I remain in the usual place, but no longer waiting.

No, bb, I may be in the usual place but I'm not waiting around for you any more.

––––––
And then on that screen, was an answer posted? And though you will not wait for me
I’ll wait for you – Oct. 21, 2013