The Call Note

Published on by Tosha Michelle

The air thick wirh honeysuckles
The sun pays homage to the street.
Birds annouce supper time
A couple dancing on the veranda
His full lps.
Her womanly hips

And I sit watching
thinking what a lovely view
Wishing on this soft spring day
that I had a hand to hold
and a man to give me that
knowing look

Instead I head inside
to my forgotten kettle
burnt now by the stove flame.
I arrange myself on the sofa.
not bothering to look back
through the door.
Silencing the whimsical pitch
Setting my disenchanted soul free.
Electing the liberty that comes
in the form of a book.

Hollowed chest.

Longing aborted
Forgotten swoon.

-Tosha Michelle

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