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LAce Posted Monday, October 10th, 2005
The Phone is Ringing
Pamela Griffin

The phone rings in the dead of night
My husband snores right through it.
But I am filled with a solitary fright
don’t know if I can do it—

answer that insistent ring.

I look at the clock’s glowing face;
it wears a patient steady stare.
My burdened heart begins to race
wondering who could be there

at the other end of the thing

My mind replays frame by frame
the argument today
with a teenaged son I could not blame
as I watched him drive away

through my tears and their awful sting.

The phone rings in the dead of night
interrupting my restless slumber.
I answer the infernal phone alright
relieved- they’ve got the wrong number!

I hurl the stupid thing.

And that’s when I hear my boy
in the kitchen - okay after all.
And I am infused with joy
and of course begin to ball-

And from the bed I spring!

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