The Call

Just loitering in the muddy woods Marimba rain through leaves My mobile's on No messages A silent friend Just hoping she might call This is the privacy I crave Gravel crunches underfoot The phone holds future secrets I lean against a tree If only she would call I skirt deep puddles But mud still sucks me down The trees loom high above me All light drains from leaves One call would change it all. Morgal

 

Poems copyright Morgal. Page put together by and copyright of Yobunny, 2000. Updated 2006