Poetry · Writing

The Last Phone

How could you answer

the call

three rings and you blinked once

and off both feet.

The miracle was on the other line

singing hallelujah on this one

counting blessings like pennys on your desk.

The hold beep becomes as violent

as a stuttering heartbeat

waving to a crowd

and I thee ghost

front row seats

to the curtain close

roses passing through me

and a deafening dial tone.

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