Harriet B. Kahn




I hung on the wall

I hung on the wall
Waiting for your call
While you took your last dime
And bought yourself some time

I put on your old sweater
And waited for your letter
While you ate all your words
And mailed the ones I heard

I rocked on the old porch swing
To the tune of what time would bring
And refused to care
How the moon combed your hair

That night I took the ring.