Image by Sarlota Ban
There is no
one on the line
no one to
talk to
no one to listen
when I call your name
There are no more wires
no strings
attaching source to end point
sender to receiver
me to you
What can I do
with these antiquated emotions?
Box them up,
in a plain brown wrapper
sealed with packing tape
to be placed safely in the back
of a rented, storage unit?
Or do I save them
to an external sorage device
forever safe
able to be accessed
at some future date?
Or do I write them out, longhand…
in cursive
on heavy, scented parchment
then roll it up
and slip into a bottle
to be stoppered
and thrown to the sea?
When I call your name
there is no one to talk to
no one to listen
After a VERY long dry spell I am glad to be back and linking this to Magpie Tales, the weekly, creative writing prompt.
