The Telephone Sleeps
death deepens with months
the passing sands by swath-sweep
the telephone sleeps
except for sibling-mourners
moaning for vocals from mom
dad shovels himself
out of his quiet mattress
aching with absence
half-alive, not dead
the one left behind
dirgelike rings of cell
mom won’t answer, but dad will
stir the stomach biles,
tighten the chest, dry the throat.
sadness listing old man’s boat
6/27/2021
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2021
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