Asking the Automated Attendant

I keep calling for your plane
I don't know why
Oh I know why

To know where you are
to know if you are in the sky
or staggering through the airport

I know you are not here
sinking between the lumps in my mattress
or folding me up like a newspaper hat

For departures press one
For arrivals press two

What button do I press
to hear your voice, or hold your hand?

I hang up the phone
briefly satisfied again:
my husband is fourteen minutes ahead of schedule,
I tell my heart.
He will be home soon.

Jessy Randall

If you've any comments on this poem, Jessy Randall would be pleased to hear from you.

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