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Elizabeth Bishop - While Someone Telephones
Work rating: Low

Wasted, wasted minutes that couldn`t be worse, 
minutes of a barbaric condescension. 
—Stare out the bathroom window at the fir-trees, 
at their dark needles, accretions to no purpose 
woodenly crystallized, and where two fireflies 
are only lost. 
Hear nothing but a train that goes by, must go by, like tension; 
nothing. And wait: 
maybe even now these minutes` host 
emerges, some relaxed uncondescending stranger, 
the heart`s release. 
And while the fireflies 
are failing to illuminate these nightmare trees 
might they not be his green gay eyes.
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