To Be Asked

If he could only hear
That it was time
That it’s been too long
And would he please come
Birthday or not
Rain or hunting season
He would have gone
Just for those impatient words
But patience abounded

And she could sit forever
Across the table from him
But she felt she ought
To check the clock casually
Sending her regrets of an early departure
Hoping he would prevail upon her
To stay beyond
But he said she might as well

Where I come from
We say no three times
And yes only to those
Who don’t capitulate easily
But I have flown enough to have seen
Those who don’t receive
Any messages upon landing

Ask me how I know when to withhold
And when to lavish freely
Then ask me again if I am certain
And I will say that I am not
Only that I know I want to be asked

©2012 Dosia McKay

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