The Misdial

by violet9ish

Posted to Action Poetry on 2001-12-29 00:12:00

This morning
I was a little girl
running late
standing in one sock,
wrinkles from purple sheets
still on my skin
when the phone rang.
The voice on the line was delicious
but it wanted nothing from me
that I had to offer
The words licked my eardrum though
and I knew this must be love.
So I clung to the voice on the phone,
but of course it couldn’t stay long.
It was only a misguided voice
searching for its destination
somewhere in the yellow pages
and had taken a wrong turn
wound up dialing my white page number
about five minutes past
the break in my slumber.
The poor lost voice though
was strong and beautiful
and I wished I could have held it
but of course
the voice knew what it wanted
and I was not it
so it politely apologized for the misdial
and hung up.
–violet9ish