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Granpa
i wanted to hang up the phone
while i was talking
i had been doing something
unimportant
i like your little rituals
you ask if im my mothers daughter
if im my fathers daughter too
and then you'll laugh
a precious kind of laughter
and then you'll tell me what the cat did
if the dog ran away
and who won the fight
you or her
i remember when you told me
about the inventor at your work
who wanted to build a phone
one could put in its pocket
and how everyone laughed
dear granpa
i hold this phone in my hands
i listen to your voice
and hope every time
this wont be the last call
poem
by
Anna Pae
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