Landline
I could float away if not for this cord,
stretched as far as it would reach
into secret corners–
unwound around corners, doors, hallways–
coils straightened into an unnatural line,
its resistance unwavering
but certain
to keep me grounded:
the call to a girl
and the race to retrieve the ringing—
no caller ID needed—
before anyone else
because there is a science to getting it just right,
a certain number of rings needed to temper the eagerness of that exhilarating ring that breaks
the silence and transports me
to another world
out of earshot for secrets needing shelter–
for a boy calling demands
a certain kind of attention,
the connection made stronger
when the chance was taken to make a call
to a girl waiting.
.
Deirdre Garr Johns resides in South Carolina with her family. Nature is an inspiration, and poetry is a first love. Much of her work is inspired by memories of people and places. Her poetry has appeared in Sylvia Magazine, South Carolina Bards Poetry Anthology, Eunoia Magazine, Nymeria Magazine, Sasee Magazine, Silver Birch Press, and more. Her website is www.amuseofonesown.com.
Stone Poetry Quarterly 