Incorporating the word phones into a poem..
[8:53am]
i'm starting to think,
that phones are lifelinesmapped under our feet,
and over concrete electric posts.
like a web sprawling
ceaselessly,
for another end to hold itself onto.
and this pattern of numbers,
of 8s, 2s and 3s
paves the difficult route
to a familiar voice
a laugh,
miles away yet close enough
to reverberate echoes at 2am,
of the Hows, Whys, and What Ifs.
there'll always be things we wonder about at the dead of the night.
and this pattern of numbers,
of 8s, 2s and 3s
paves the difficult route
to a familiar voice
a laugh,
miles away yet close enough
to reverberate echoes at 2am,
of the Hows, Whys, and What Ifs.
there'll always be things we wonder about at the dead of the night.
***
side note: the 8s 2s and 3s were part of our house's old phone number. i decided to use it here cause it just fits the poem perfectly like an old pair of cherished gloves. writing's amusing that way.:)
