Thursday, July 06, 2006

The Last Call

She wilts over the phone
absent form here.
I mean
not to pry on her
private
grief
but linger longer

than I should.
I watch her
body quaver
as words

choke soundlessly within
glass walls.
I want to tell her

I have been there.
Like
her diminished by pain.
my insides hollowed out,
gone about my day like a
shell without a soul.
But life
returns in the end.
It gives
back more
than it takes.

I walk on, wondering
about
the rest of her day,
about
how she will soldier on
like nothing happened.
Had I not seen her
when I had,

I would not have known
how
she had died
just a little bit
.

1 comment:

Teri said...

So toucning...sad...and beautiful are your words.

Ciao.