I Waited

All day I waited.

I waited for nothing.

I curled my hair, and put on makeup for no one.

I made the beds, 

pinched the basil blossoms away.

I tossed them over the fence,

Half-thinking I should eat them instead.

I admired the lavender, the eucalyptus in its vase--

I placed them on The Bedside Book of Birds.

I watched the real birds,

in their true form, flying from vent, to tree, to deck.

It is more or less the same for them, the birds, 

the birds who wait for nothing.