The Phone Call |
| by Kit McCallum |
The call that comes in darkest sleep,
Awakens with a fright;
For 2 am, the silence breaks
The peaceful calm of night.
When only moments earlier,
I dreamt of visions fair;
Of light and love and happiness;
... Till ringing filled the air.
It beckoned me from deepest sleep,
And drew me from my daze;
I shook my head to clear my mind,
Find focus through this haze.
"How long has this been ringing?"
As I reach to find the light;
I steal a glance toward the clock,
And now my heart takes flight!
'Tis many hours before the dawn,
Yet all should be in bed;
My loved ones faces fill the night;
... My heart is filled with dread.
I struggle for composure as
I reach to grab the phone;
My stomach churns, my heart contracts;
"Are all my kids at home?"
I stumble as I grasp the handle,
Stifle silent screams;
"Oh God ... please let this phone call
Be a part of just a dream!"
My heart is racing, mind's a whirl,
Receiver's made of lead;
"Oh, how can this be happening!"
"Who's on the other end?!"
Just seconds pass and yet I find
It's been eternity;
I raise the phone to panicked ear;
"Oh please ... don't be for me!"
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(c) 2000 Kit McCallum Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
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