Iolanda Scripca Poet Free verse

Phone Wire In Graves

Waiting for a phone call

 Hoarding memories surrounding

 A nest of sorrow

 She's deep asleep

 I watch her...

 She's 

 dreaming dreams of happy times but gone...

 Busy walls with mounted smiles

 A mute TV screen displaying a tragic comedy

 Curtains shielding tears

 Three phone devices that do not ring...

 I must go back to my reality

 I cry, she cries...

 Our phones do not even sound busy...

 Invisible wires of the soul crash in memories...

 copyright@iolandascripca2013

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Anne-Lise Andresen January 20, 2013 at 1:52 PM A touching poem .... but well written. - Have a nice new week. - ( I'll call you one day.:) - oxox / / Anne-Lise

Audrey Haick January 7, 2013 at 8:22 PM It's good to see you posting again, Iolanda! Memories are indeed precious and they are a gift, I believe to give us hope; to remind us that there is a tomorrow...if we persevere. Happy New Year, my friend, filled with blessings and good will! Love, Annalise

Andrea Dietrich January 7, 2013 at 6:24 PM such a sad tone set in this one, Iolanda. I enjoyed the read.

Timothy Jacks January 7, 2013 at 5:47 PM Well, I can hear them there. The line is always busy. Very well put, the words you have wrote here.