midday phone
call
he doesn’t feel
so alone
only thought on
rest
the call is
more than welcome
like the sun
burning the front
of the tower
sits staring into
the blinding
sky staring back at him
feels so small
in the broad scheme
of things and
thoughts
that no one
else can comprehend
he wants to
explain himself
instead he
listens intently
it’s what he’s
got to do
and there isn’t
a part
of him that
minds at all
sounds around
distract
his thought
twisting
like smoke
between fingers snapping
three years ago
and so much since
midday call and
midnight visit
how much loss
can he consider
a gain of some
kind
things just
change
evidence is
inconclusive
puddle people
on get their feet wet…
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