the waiting

from the pulpit a vain cry of reproach
the assembly does not approve and goes outside without looking back

out in the cold, engines running waiting for people  eager to return home

to their multi-solitudes protected with double locks and heavy doors
aimed to remain closed forever

we walk  slowly breathing mist and hope
we are found since long
and now we await for a good warm greeting of a smile and a tear

we are not afraid of this emptiness
there is waiting and waiting
ours is filled with hands outstretched

we are not afraid
before day come we will get home


Marco Bo