Her eyes glued to the clock, winked not once
The clouds out are still and dark, shrouding sun
The kettle she forgot in the stove is whistling weak
The wind is lost somewhere in wild woods, far
Her thoughts looked for wind, to wander far
No clouds spilled out those tears, bulging.
They couldn’t hold that thunder in the morning
Now it is dead silence, sun hesitant and clouds still
The thunder storm in the morning carried him far
Now she is looking for wind to trail the path
The clock is ticking, the only other rhythm
than her heartbeat, waiting impatiently…..