Telephone.
Alone.
Nicotine yellowed rotary on
Slab of fake mahogany
In hotel room.
Cacophony of tinny bells ring loud.
Vibrates against paper-thin viral-stained walls
Within the sparse space.
An old-fashioned sound in an undefined place.
Its call persists.
Brrring!-Brring!
Brrring!-Brring!
Plastic thing sings
Metallic.
Brring!-Brring!
Pity there's no one there to answer it.
It rings no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment