Francie Lynch


The Call - Poem by Francie Lynch

It's 2 a.m.
The phone rings.
It rings differently,
You lift it gingerly,
Afraid to say, Hello.
Hello, this is Sgt. B.D. Gnus.
May I speak with
Mr. or Ms. Mel/Ann Colley.
A minute later,
All you hear is the dial tone,
And a thud
In you head,
And a rattle
In your chest.

Topic(s) of this poem: death


Comments about The Call by Francie Lynch

  • Clarence Prince (3/9/2015 9:08:00 AM)


    That's what late call does; it causes fear! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 9, 2015

Poem Edited: Monday, March 9, 2015


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