Buzzing in the ear…
“Now what on earth’s the matter now?”
buzzing…
She pulls the thread tight
bringing it to her teeth where
a quick bite separates from beauty
another stitch made.
“Well, that’s all well and fine...”
buzzing…
“Uh huh, well, you don’t say?”
buzzing…
Between her fingers she
slowly threads another color through.
Over smudged and crooked bifocals
she takes time to roll her once sharp eyes
up towards heaven upon completion;
half over the accomplishment,
half over the conversation.
“No, I don’t suppose it’d matter
one way or the other to me.”
buzzing…buzzing…buzzing…
Laying the fabric down in her lap
she sighs impatiently inside, and then aloud.
“Well you tell him,
you just tell him that.”
Buzzing…
“Yes, OK, well I’ll see you Sunday then…
and don’t forget the mashed potatoes.”
buzzing…buzzing…buzzing...
“Fine, good night.”
She cradles the receiver
on the old black rotary,
giving it a sour look.
Picking up her work
she resumes, with renewed
diligence and patience,
the flower she’d started
before the buzzing began.
No comments:
Post a Comment