Waiting for Him
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
She watches
from the front brick steps
as the dogwoods and crepe myrtle
bloom in the receding air,
holding onto hope
like a blighted fruit
in the palm of her hand.
After all these years
still the hope,
with her three kids
and busted marriages,
and a little horde of children
scattered about Bahrain
by her husband's brief needs.
Still hope catches in her throat
like a small gold seed.
At dusk, near the base at Fort Bragg,
the F-15s etch silver outlines
in the darkening air,
stalking the night sky.
And at midnight the blue moon
lumbers into an empty sky,
as the leaves of the plum tree
unfold, hiding their tiny blossoms.
