Wednesday, 19 August 2009


Morning breaks into afternoon
As shafts and slithers of sunlight
Hit the pale cream telephone
As I walk into the room toward it
Apprehensively picking it up
I dial the number
Slowly to be sure its right
Will he be in I ponder?
Seven times lucky?
I just wonder…
Nine rings… and an answer
He’s in!
(Thank God)
(At last)
Sitting comfortably
In a position of ease
I look through the curtains
Onto the street below
Quiet at times
Busy at others
While we speak
Exchanging conversation creates
Dulcet tones and mellow vibes
As I picture him
In a room of beige
A black phone in one hand
The other resting upon a knee or a bed
Quiet, listening, imagining
Elevating the senses
Finding out about the other
Inquiring responses
Calculated questions
Cautious answers in reply.

Time passes
The morning faded
Husky tints to amber glows
Things are revealed
While other things are left unsaid
That’s all part of communicating
What do you want to know? He asks
Everything, I suppose, I thought, saying nothing
Tell me about yourself
What would you like to know?
I laugh and reply and he joins in
His laughter is crisp and mellow
Like crunching wet iceberg lettuce
And sipping chill sweet white wine
The line goes quiet.

As I sit, I wonder
What does he really think?
What thoughts run through his mind?
What questions does he ready himself to pose?
I feel myself as a box within a box
Within many other boxes
He’s pried open the hardest one already
It’s a start
Darkest black with hints of grey
Gives way to reveal
White with a tint of blue
There are many more colours
But there are also many more boxes
Each as complex as the maze that is my personality
Traps and dead ends
Subjects posed and subjects conquered
Some are left undefeated
While others lay still deep and untended
An interruption…
Pauses… waiting
Change of direction, dimension
A river of thought
Fast, vast, immense
I wonder what he thought then
I wonder what he thinks now
I am so very curious as to
What cogs, gears and wheels
Time to turn to tune his mind
Analysis today
Conclusion later
Revelations left for the future
For me, for him
For both of us
We converse he opens up
Like the flower to the sun
To all. To one. To me.
With the promise of more
This is where it ends
For now.

Another time...
Another place...
Another call...
Click. Beeeeeep...

© 1997 Written by Angela Edgar All Rights Reserved. Unauthorised Reproduction Prohibited.

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