WAITING

The clock ticks slow, a heavy sound,
While patience sits upon the ground.

The kettle hums, a gentle plea,
For tea to bloom and set us free.

A letter waits, unsent, unread,
Inside my heart, a hopeful dread.

The traffic crawls, a metal stream,
Disturbing quiet, like a dream.

The sun descends, a fiery show,
And shadows lengthen, soft and slow.

The crow caws with morning sun,
First light strikes and then there is none.

But morning comes, a brand new start,
To ease the waiting in my heart.