Waiting For Emily

I wouldn't wait for Emily

if I only had a life -

my life has come to this:

drinking

and listening for her car

crackling up the driveway.

Some nights she comes,

brings a bottle and a lime,

lights me up and leaves.

Some nights she stays,

but mostly,

she stays away.

I wouldn't wait for Emily
if I could afford

a bottle on my own.

In a list

15 minutes - 3 by Melissa Gayle. 300 points, ended January 31, 2007, 15 entries
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By me, right now

Adding your comment:
Annalise
February 1, 2007

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"crackling up" When I was married (lifetimes ago) I remember sitting by the window waiting to hear his car coming up the gravel drive (or road. We lived in many places in the country. There was always gravel.) It was what I perfected in my marriage. Listening for him to come home.

Sometimes he didn't. Ever. I learned to love the sound of him "crackling up" to me. Then I learned to hate it.

Man, this poem made me think too much. Now I'm sad.

This is good.
Melissa Gayle
January 31, 2007
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Oh dear Emily.
Cherokee
January 31, 2007
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Reverse gold digging... interesting.
MuddyKing
January 31, 2007

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haven't seen you in a bit my friend, i think you are the best around with love and a bottle...helluva write
peace Muddy
Saffron
January 31, 2007

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I know I keep saying the same things over and over about your Emily poems, but I do so love them, and this is no exception

Love you.
-ButterflyCuts-
January 31, 2007
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I love this.. the word play and natural rhythm is stunning. x