a poem caused while I wait for someone to call me back
by David Spiering

since the invention of the telephone
people have wasted time waiting
their hands on their hips
while wholly useful pieces of time
melted like serenity in the midst of fire
and they passed in that slim waist of time into nothing

the sun warmed up the sky’s blue
and a thought could be called up in that time
that might prove to be the much needed endurance to help solve our troubled emotional equations

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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