What A King

by Robert Gould

Days spent at my mirror
preparing for you
(my hair, these clothes, botched encounters with tan)
were a waste of my time.

I should have learnt a new word,
a new way to describe what I felt –
it was real, like the smile I will wear
when you wave and you walk

hand in hand with the one.
I could not see it when you left,
only now it is clear:
I am the window you look through to admire the sun.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s