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Where Telephones Ring

The dead
are on group call
on Zoom and Skype;
ever more faces
leaving holes above the street
and timbres of voices
in my head

I hear voices

I'm attuned to them;
a choir
of friends, acquaintances, relatives

My Self robed
in years and words

The day's finches
on the leafless branches
of winter

Anyone, when here,
is overwhelming;
when gone: An echo,
a few words;
a vacant world
where telephones ring

Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 125 gånger och applåderad av 4 personer
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Publicerad 2021-02-16 09:50

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  Koloristen VIP
It's like a grey adder at the end of the hall

It's like a plastic horned devil

Capt. Beefheart "Telephone".
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