The way in which we wait

Please hold.
So begins the incessant tone of the machine
No one on the other side picks up
So I wait, for indication and validation.
I don’t do anything but wait anymore
Except of course, trying to receive an answer.
I’m afraid of leaving, in the slightest chance
That someone might answer and I’m absent.
What if, someone picks up and they realise.
So I hold, as I am told, because I am told
That soon, someone will reply.
I trust that someone will reply.
Like an animal waiting for food,
A day in the waiting room,
The recurring ticking of the second-hand,
And the cyclical changing of the days,
I am told,
Please Hold.

19-08-2008