11/22/11

Faulty Connection
By Abigail Wyatt


I am hooked up
by telephone late at night
to someone who is not you.
A thankless task;
though I do not cry,
I talk myself in knots.

The ether invites me
to mouth your name;
a prayer, an act of defiance.
I wrap it in a thousand words
but I cannot talk myself free.

At the end of the line
my friend is sad. I know
what she is thinking.
The strength she sends
is not what I want;
I am looking for a lie.

There is no proper way
to end this call so I wait
for the broken connection.
It comes with a click.
The dial tone sounds.

I cannot say goodbye.


- - -
Abigail Wyatt writes for her life in the shadow of Carn Brea in Cornwall. Formerly a teacher, she now writes full-time and is grateful to be able to do so. Her poetry and short fiction and have been published in range of outlets and she would like to thank the editors of all of them. Her poetry collection, 'Moths in a Jar', (Palores) appeared in October, 2010.