Presage

I knew you were coming so I waited all day.

And so did you, holding back, seeking the perfect

moment to appear. But I could smell you in the air;

I could feel you on my skin.

When I heard you from the streets end,

I held my breath so that I wouldn't miss a

single sound.  I listened, quiet as I could,

to hear you smack the warm dry ground;

blurring visibility as you fell.

Watching from the window, smiling smugly,

where I heard shouts and flip flops running.

In less than ten minutes you had gone,

but I knew that you were coming.