The tiny lane,
see’s little traffic….
it leads to a old cabin
that sits near the lake.
every day at four o’clock
a red haired woman
can be seen walking..
checking her mail..
her husband Johnny
went to work one morning
and never came home..
no body was found.
his car was abandoned..
3 years have  passed
and still no word from Johnny…
When she calls the police
desperate and crying…
The Cops just tell her
it’s under investigation…
reminding her
He might have just left ..
and doesn’t want found.
Nobody knows
for sure.
Some say she sits
on a rock
by the road
for hours…
as if she’s waiting.
Her parents are  gone.
her children are grown.
sitting under a tree
she reads cards
sent by old friends
that smell of mothballs..
and waves to strangers
passing by..

Connetta Jean…

~ by connetta on February 9, 2014.

3 Responses to “Waiting……”

  1. love this poem Connie

  2. Sad and evocative.

  3. Great! It’s like being taken on a ghost ride. It’s very quiet, and very vivid.

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