Waiting. Always the waiting.
Watching the hands of the clock tick away
yet another hour of my life.
Or what’s left of it.
An hour I could have spent
chasing chimeras with my child.
Discussing dreams with my friend.
Making magic with my lover.
Yet, here I sit, and wait, as the numbers flash red on black.
I want it to be my turn.
But I shy away from what awaits within.
It’s always the waiting that kills,
inch by excruciating inch.
Finally, it ends.
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
I am too worn out to rejoice.
or realize, my life, held hostage,
has just been returned to me.
Living in Singapore, India-born Uma Venkatraman is a journalist with a passion for poetry. She has been published in anthologies such as Good Morning Justice, Along The Shore and Beyond The Hill, and online in the Amethyst Review, L'Ephemere Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, and Plath Poetry Project. She has also taken part in Tupelo Press’ 30/30 Project.