Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Old Fashioned Phone

An old fashioned phone,
Black, standing tall.
Shining beside the candlelight.
Calling for me to play the tones of it's dial,
Round and round,
As each number hits.

My soul jumps back, to a different century,
Blonde hair, pressed curls to my head.
Delicate fingers, turn the dial,
Heart races,
Stopping at number five.
Hanging up.

Laying by a fireplace,
Defeated,
Yet in bliss.

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