The Cold Caller Poem by Nick Moran

The Cold Caller



Liam's listening to a station called Ocean radio
In a walled London Garden where only hellebores grow
then he answered a number that he didn't know
And a cold caller caught him feeling so low

the shadow of a long-lost plane flew across his head
A spider freed a butterfly from her silky web
her script faded finding her own warm words to say
The cold caller sounded lonely today

They talked for hours until she had to go home
asking for her number she said you already know
calling her the next day from the wild Atlantic way
she was not there and was already on her way

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