The Silent Phone

She holds your slim metallic body

Fast

In her snow white hands,

Hoping as the sun slides by,

And dies in October’s wintery skies,

That you’ll burst into radiant colour,

Like Gabrielle emerging from his heavenly realm

Like lightening ravaging a mighty elm,

You’ll whisper quietly,

In her grasp,

And soothe the burn of hopes and prayers,

Bearing word from one who surely cares.

But silent as death

You lie,

Cupped in your grave,

Ignorant as a soldier is brave.

The shadow on her face grows darker,

And the black gown of night rustles around her.

From the park bench she slowly rises

And weaves her long way home,

Whilst you stare on, proudly,

White and silent as a bone.