To Call My Mother
I keep picking up the phone to call my mother
To hear her voice and her laugh, which was terrific.
I know she would be chuckling at the latest tweets.
Laughing her head off at the ridiculousness of them.
And she would be incensed by the murder of an innocent
In a street where other police officers stood by doing nothing
We would discuss how soon we flipped that off
Not wanting to witness a killing on national TV
We would discuss the fact that my sister could watch the whole thing
Stating how awful it was, and we would ponder how she could do it.
We would discuss the weirdness of online school
And how ineffective it is, pondering how long to wear our masks.
We would discuss and laugh and joke and have fun
I would stay on longer than usual, realizing life is shorter than I thought
But she traveled home to Heaven in January,
Which I do not remember until I pick up the phone.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
