Tick.


Tock.

Tick.



Tock.
The grandfather clock downstairs
matches the steady beat of
my heart.
Longing.


Wishing.

Waiting.



Praying.
Longing for the brother, the friend
who is now gone.
Wishing the grandfather clock would
beat faster, bringing you home now.
Waiting to hear from you, in hopes you
heard from me.
Praying that you are okay, and won't forget
the place you call home.
Longing.


Wishing.

Waiting.



Praying.
The strike of the clock interrupts my
thoughts, tears, hopes and fears.
One sleepless night down,
three hundred and sixty four
more to go.