I'll Wait

Here I sit in solitude,
Staring blankly at the deck of cards.
An empty seat across from me beckons, a silent companion yet unclaimed,
a throne of camaraderie awaiting its rightful occupant.
The cards remain untouched and still, for there's no one to play along.
Met a few, forgot a few but no one did fill the seat and here I sit,
Alone and atone, a solitary player forever waiting for my partner's move.

Here I sit, a silent witness to the ballet of wine glasses,
each one perspiring with the allure of shared moments.
One is filled, its richness beckoning to be savored,
while the other lies free, an upturned vessel, kissing the table's cheeks.
For there's no lover to clink glasses and share the symphony of sips.
I've met many, forgotten even more, but none embraced the glass.
Here I sit alone and atone, still waiting for an ethereal love to materialize.

Through the tapestry of my life, I've encountered countless souls.
"Friendly" faces that faded away, leaving me stranded in the silence
of country clubs, in the emptiness of group chats, and the stillness
of untouched playing cards, each deck a repository of unplayed stories.

A heart unclaimed, a love unshared, a connection unrealized.

It's challenging to discern between never having loved and never
having been loved when the heart has turned to stone.
Yet within the fortress, there lingers a tender spot,
a residue of a mother's love, the unwavering pulse that sustains.

But maybe I’ll meet them all one day.
In a bustling Boston bar or a lonely Paris Street.
Maybe we'll make the same mistakes or laugh over a pint of beer.
Maybe I'll meet her one day, sailing in a gondola on a quiet day.
Our eyes will meet on a winding street, and with a single look, our hearts will sync in time.
Until that destined day, I'll linger in the present,
Alone and atone, an observer of empty seats and sweating glasses,
Patiently watching for the script of life to unfold its next act.
I'll Wait