You don't call anymore and I have nothing to say
Written by Abel Johnson Thundil
By Abel Johnson ThundilPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash
You don’t call anymore,
And I have nothing to say.
A fly sits on the apple with brown spots.
I wave it off and eat it.
A blot of pigeon poop on the chair.
I scratch it off and sit on it,
Waiting for you to walk down the road;
Waiting for you to wave.
But you don’t come.
You don’t call anymore,
And I have nothing to say.
Tops spin to a stop,
And helium balloons never return,
A cat with a broken leg fails to jump the fence;
And it waits there crying
To be with the others cats.
You don’t call anymore,
And I have nothing to say.
But when I sit on the chair,
I hope you'll come.
When I eat the stale apple,
I hope you feel my pain.
And when I can’t jump the fence,
I assume you’re on the other side
Waiting
For me to heal.
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