Passing the Time Between Salvation and Waiting

there’s the familiar
lingering gnawing
in my chest cavity
as the minutes pass
on all the digital
clocks. i can count
every light that’s on
in this house and
it’s too many. too
many for the kind
of thoughts that i’ve
been having all day
between the sitting
and the standing, be-
tween the talking &
the smiling and the
silence. the bright
screen reflects off
my face, but i can’t
see it from where
i’m sitting. crickets
chirp outside the
kitchen window as
my refrigerator hums
its steady mechanical
hum. i write & erase
words and write and
erase words until,
giving up finally, these
lines emerge, and the
cricket stops singing
but the numbers on
the clock still change.