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Goodbyes mostly, these days

A friend

I would have given my life for

without hesitation

now rushes me off the phone.

Makes excuses

we both would have scoffed at

once.

 

I listen, acutely,

for the slightest note of recognition

in her voice,

something that will tell me

she still remembers

us.

 

I wait, in hope,

to hear her simple acknowledgment

of our connection,

once so fierce,

so true.

 

Instead

I hear her distance.

I hear it

in every word she doesn’t say.

 

— Photo courtesy of Leslie Cudmore.

 

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Writer and Poet

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Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

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