Memory Of Telephone Calls
Are you waiting
for me to call.
All you will hear
is telephone silence.
Telephone silence
is a sound
I always hear.
I fear.
A telephone
is a hated thing
when it
does not ring.
And yet
so often
it has been
our only means
of communication.
The only means
by way of which
I could
communicate
with you.
Your letters
and cards
have given me
past
pleasure and joy.
But also
the sharp
separation
of long
or final goodbyes.
We often
spoke on
the telephone
later cell phones
because we
could not
come to
each others houses.
We could not
cross the threshold
of each others
doorsteps.
We could not
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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