How Are You? Poem by RIC BASTASA

morning
is your usual sound
vibrant as the
wings of
a seagull
diving upon
a white
fish
against a blue
sea

it is evening
i sit alone on a chair at the porch
trying to
listen to
your whisper

rising into a
lively conversation
like
a crowd of three
at the
balcony

i am worried

the city has no electricity
and it is dark

you have become so far away from me
like
a vanishing
light

i need you to
make a sound

even the faintest sound
of a cellphone
in silent mode with
a matching
vibration