its funny the way we women are so at the mercy of these things
and so much life gets lived in the space between those
anticipated phone calls.
Then again, the vigil in my life only lasts so long
before I don't care any longer about you
and your phone call.
At least I get the house clean, the plants watered,
the dog walked, the novel written, the run in,
the yoga practiced, the lecture prepped, the
book read, the friends visited, the good cheer
spread, the shopping done, and all of those
things that sometimes seem as though they
are done simply to fill the space
between those phone calls.
Oh its just you. You were not who I was thinking of anymore.
****
note to self -- this is a good one in the making, revisit in the future.
This is a blog of some poetry I wrote at different times. Mostly it's about my broken heart.
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morning to night
did you think of me i asked morning to night ! i will float on those words for days nothing else is getting in
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this is day ten day ten count 'em onetwothree fourfivesix seveneightnineten nineten ninethen ten Monday to a Wednesday a week past To a ...
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i count time in years shams but lose count numbers are not my thing my dog is nine. he's nine you know which means i lived here for 8 y...
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i have stared at this phone what 100 times a day for two days waiting for some message from you i'm not a texting guy you said what is ...
The phone doesn't ring here very often....sometimes too much time....in-between....
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