One Call
by Chris Lawrence
chin creased as
folded paper
lips turned down
eyes burning
receiver cradled
by her face
to her a voice
monotone
spoke distorted
words
about him coming
home
an intersection
aquaplane
a rig
and we did all we can
sorry
sorry folded her mind into
a dark pocket
Copyright ©:
Chris Lawrence |
About Chris Lawrence
Biography
Born in June 64 lives in West Kirby by the sea, writes poetry, stories and screenplays, has poems in a number of on line journals and a couple of anthologies, also preparing a couple of collections.
