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:

Sideways Chica said...

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

Ciao.

Being Adult

Any parent who has experienced their child attaining adulthood has wondered at what age that becomes real adulthood and not conceptual.  .....