adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Beep, a poem

Beep

That small beep, barely heard
from the next room, announces
that the phone is charged.

I’ll unplug it later,
if I remember, place it
somewhere on my desk,

ready at hand for calls
that never come.

Stephen Brooke ©2013

A small piece that, yes, was inspired by a beep from the next room. I really do hardly use my phone and have one only because a number is required for so many things in everyday life and, of course, for emergencies.

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