The Wait

I step out the Chevy onto the path
to the door back home. Each step
nudged by the gentle breeze as eyes
grab at any sign of you and catch nothing.

But you might already be inside
in the foyer ready for me to lift you up
and carry you into the bedroom.

I climb the two steps of the porch
and insert the key into the lock
with a surgeon’s touch. It turns.
I inhale. Please be home by now.

Critique

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