Tag: DATING IN THE 1960S

Each night I wait.
I watch out the window. 
I count cars
that appear on the road. 
See their headlights grow
then dwindle as they
continue past on 
two lanes heading north.

“If I count ten cars, he’ll come.”
“If I count twenty…”
I hope we will drive to the light
and talk and laugh 
but he may not appear.
I sit at the window until 
late, the night gone.
Disappointment’s my reward.

All evening 
I'm held hostage to hope.
My job – suspense, submission.
His – choice and power.