Friday’s Call
I woke up this fine morning
thinking it was spring
I thought I heard you calling
the phone, I heard it ring.
You only call on Sunday
or maybe not at all
I hate to think I missed you
it’s only that one call.
So now I sit here thinking
of what to say to you
the next time that you call me
I think I’ll have the flu.
Don’t call me on a Monday
I’ve got my chores to keep
Don’t call me on a Tuesday
my answer machine will beep.
Don’t call me on a Wednesday
I’d hate to miss you then
Don’t call me on a Thursday
I’ll not remember when.
So if you call on Friday
I’ll wait right by the phone
To answer all your questions
now that I am alone.
©2020 CBialczak
For https://dversepoets.com/2020/02/04/what-day-is-it-anyway/
Maybe you need more days where you are open for a call…:-)
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Hahaha
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Im left wondering – who is calling? Do you want the call? There’s an ebb and flow of anxiety, a sense of ambivalence. There’s a whole story underneath this. Great stuff.
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Thank you
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a poem that tells a story, each day of the week has its own agenda, I like the part where you are thinking what to say when the caller calls back
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I like your description of waiting for a call.
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Thank you
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