Anticipation

at the podium
a wool blanket wraps itself
around my tongue
–
summer sun-
snowy cotton
waiting for harvest

sitting on the dock
losing patience waiting for
my ship to come in
–
a cold hard rain-
the dog brings
her leash

joyful innocence
unencumbered by malice
that’s yet to be learned
–
the parched forest glen
desperately awaits
the lightning