Waiting for service to begin
I watch the well coiffed walk here and there
They are the busy
and I watch them
see what characteristics I like
and what I don’t.
their self-satisfaction with no right
to do so.
I’m the eyes unstuck from the groove
of social pretense.
The ceremony will begin
and my writing cannot be
caught in the act of observing.
Must play my own part
slide along that groove
and observe the context
and that special hint
of incense can be teased from the
air if I seek it out;
brings the correct mood to the place.
His story stains
paints the glass
watches me sit here watching others
waiting for all to begin again.