At the phone, I stare
waiting for signals
burning like fireflies,
embers and ashes
through the wire.
Fall into thoughts
less words.
The longest night
of killing the hours.
Pushing freewill.
Catching Morse codes-
to smoke or not
to smoke puff floats
in luminescent air.
You win again.
When the cable lines
gather raindrops
hanging low, dazed.
And confused as if
glimmering like tears
I, since the morning,
broken at a distance.
Like other nights
betting on a chance,
my silence is born.
Catching human emotions and behaviors with such beauty! I love this one!
dear isabelle,
thank you for appreciating this poem. such a profound gesture.
godspeed to you.