I still wear this ring
of cut glass and tarnished silver
because it reminds me of you
I bought it myself
and wrapped it up
opened it one day when I needed a smile
and wore it not on that particular finger
that means something special
but the one just next to it
and you saw it, looked at it for a while
then leveled those eyes right at me
and said "I'll buy you better."
And I waited, oh, just waited
for so many months, thinking about that promise
and I must've twisted that cheap old ring
'round my finger a thousand times,
took it off and switched it to its next-door neighbor
studied how it looked-
the hand of a woman betrothed,
but then, with a sigh, looked away,
slid that ring back over my knuckle and
into its rightful place
where I wear it still,
unaccompanied by any other rings
'cause I'm still waiting for that one from you.