The Call

I look up at my sisters’ laughing faces

We have plans to go out together.

But the nervous sky in my window retraces

Grows colder, darker, encroaching night.

We sit at the table for minutes, or hours?

We talk and laugh and drink.

But I feel the air outside as it sours

Grows heavy, deep, peeling into night.

I try to take off, but they don’t let me through

You know about the storm that’s coming.

I sit back down, yes, right, I do.

And my body gets colder, darker and tight.

Am I trapped?

I look out the porch window

Of my childhood home

The sky is dark green, blue and swirling.

With a giant thermometer that’s rainbow and chrome

Pinned up in the sky to the right.

Get away from the window, she says

You know the stalker is outside.

I sit back down, yes, right, I do

We need to stay in here and hide.

But I still strain to see the thermometer right.

Are we trapped?

The lights turn off, the power is out

The storm has damaged the block no doubt

But my son, he's next door with the sitter.

So I run up the stairs, to my old bedroom

And dial their number from up in the tower.

He easily picks up the line

As if everything was always fine

Yep see you soon mom, ok, bye.

And then it’s my sister in the hallway who inquires

What are you doing up here with no power?

I thought I had to call my son,

He said he’s safe though, he's having fun.

We’ll go out and get him later.

But she stares at me blankly and says,

Those lines have been dead for an hour.

Then who the hell was I talking to?

But it’s not my voice that comes through

And it’s not my sister’s face anymore that I’m looking into

And that’s not her black smile like a crescent moon

That grows wider, colder, darker, consuming the room.