Waiting

I'm sitting here waiting
Wind in my hair
Blowing the pages
And I don't remember
What I was waiting for

It seemed so important
This bench that I found
All the people walking
But my mind is slip sliding
And passing me by
Just like the time

Sitting here waiting
Taking its toll
Like a marathon race
I'm out of shape for
When my wait's over
It'll just start again
If I knew where I was looking
I might find the end

Eric Frye
Stream of consciousness poem, 2002?