Waiting
I am waiting,
waiting for the juice-seller's stall to open,
my friends to waken so I can shower and change my sleep-soiled clothes,
for emails from home which take up to two days to get through,
for the coming of the bombs.
I am living in suspense:
so busy, so many meetings, so much talk,
not enough action,
so many welcomes,
yes, and some goodbyes.
I am waiting.
But it is not true that everything comes to him who waits.
