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Waiting For A Call
The telephone lies silent
It has laryngitis I fear.
I sit staring at it,
Mutely it stares back.
I'd gladly take a call from the double glazing people,
You know the ones who call on spec,
Just to hear a friendly voice.
Is the instrument still working?
I call the speaking clock,
Just to make sure,
Just to hear a voice,
Reverently replacing the receiver.
I watch the clock.
Time crawls.
The silence gnaws at my ears.
And still, yes still,
The telephone lies silent.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem
by
Paul Brookes
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