Tagged: call

allow us to be

in silver springs, the

in silver springs, the
cherry blossoms are in bloom,
you pass this message

over the phone this afternoon,
joy blossoming with each word

smile as a random

your parents called to

your parents called to
say that your childhood turtle
has died – the end of

a long story and threats to
send the aquarium our way

perhaps we are all

perhaps we are all
castaways, dreaming of a place
that will call us home

** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: castaways

this gap we call the

allow us to go

allow us to go
first for a

first to call
it for what it is,
–isms, -ists, -phobias
and listen.
because unfailingly,
we are the firsts
to call it
for what it isn’t,
to call each other
out, the go-to tool
for those accustomed
to the short straw

history calls us

we promised that our

we promised that our
mothers would not call
each other when you or
i die, that we would
just feel it,
long before the
conversations would
not take place.
you have a plan
to haunt my dreams
serenading our george
michael. i promise
not to be prepared,
so that i can be so
unprepared for
at least one thing


on a scale of walking

on a scale of walking
into traffic and
walking into the sea,
last night i
chose the sea,
and when i reached it,
you called me
out of the blue,
an accusatory tone
in your voice,
taking me back
to the days when
i’d arrive at my
childhood home
and not ring you up.
i was found out,
i leaned the
heaviness against you
so that i could
find a new
balance, and you
shifted so that you
could accommodate
the weight. i
wandered alongside,
instead of into,
though the sound of
the waves will always
compete with your voice