We Cried Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

I drove slowly down an unfamiliar country road.
The return trip home was marred by a numbing tragedy.

My cell phone began to musically ring relentlessly.
My somber son answered the call hesitantly.

His sister was calling in regard to a note we had left at her door.
'Please call me at this number, ASAP; it concerns your ailing father.'

A long period of silence was follow by… 'Heather, our Dad died today.'
My vision blurred as I came to a stop on the gravel shoulder.

With a gasping breath, I took the phone and said, 'Yes, it is true.'
We’ll need to get together soon and make funeral arrangements.


(7/20/07)