I had a phone call with D tonight that ran something like this. The way I tell it here involves a bit of creative interpretation on my side -- amplifying reality here and there to make a more imteresting poem. So you shouldn't jump to any conclusions about what is "really" going on. I figure in this case reality is an inspiration and no more. Still, I don't think it's too bad for something I tossed off in a hurry ....
.
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"Tomorrow call my phone just after six.
I'm on the road – alone an hour or two.
They say that phones and driving shouldn't mix,
But I am famished for a chance to talk with you."
.
And so I called, a bit past six o'clock.
I heard a rustle, voices, then a hush.
"My darling, are you free now? Can you talk?"
"I'm not," she said, and hung up in a rush.
.
I know she'll send me e-mail with the dawn,
Assuring me how true I'll find her heart.
She'll tell me, "Truly this is what went on."
If only Truth for her weren't such an art!
.
And yet I'll love her every bit as well,
No matter where she was, or what she'll tell.
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