Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul

The old leather bound address book

sits faithfully and patiently

on the desk he would sit at for hours.

 

He does not open it anymore;

the names inside,

phantoms of the past,

long distance area codes,

of the places he loved to visit with old friends.

attached are notes with extra large paper clips

remind him to call for one reason or another

but he cannot remember if he did .

 

Mother turns the pages

as she softly sings the alphabet song.

She stops at the letter “J”

hoping the name “Jo” jogs his memory.

 

She then turns to the letter “M”

and then like magic

he calls out “mama”

and asks for the phone

because he forgot to call her today

tears quickly rush down his face

he remembered

she is gone.