A Bright and Beautiful Saturday in Las Vegas

The sun is shining
on the naked limbs
of the neighbors’ oak trees
and on the dying pine
in my front yard.

It’s a bright
and beautiful Saturday afternoon
in Las Vegas;
a good time to walk
in the late winter sunshine.

It’s a good time
to be happy and celebrate
the optional
of a fresh New Year.

It’s a good time to laugh,
a good time to sing,
a good time to do anything
except sit in the house
and cry.

This afternoon I want to cry and I know why I want to cry. I’m tired of wanting and waiting, but I’m not sure what to do other then wait for the call. I’m waiting for news that my name is at the top of a waiting list and an apartment is ready for me to move in.

Perhaps I’m being too impatient, but I think I’ve been patient long enough. It’s a New Year. I want a new place to live. I want to feel (even if it isn’t true) that I have a little control over my life. I don’t know what to do except write, throw or give stuff away.

It’s a beautiful Saturday in Las Vegas
and I feel
as if I’m floating
in limbo.