Early and late, mourners
carry their grief here
to this bench over the ocean
and the glass booth for talking
with the dead, its maker coming
only every now and then
to clear the webs and leaves
for the new travelers, who arrive
each day to stand at the rotary phone
(no cord, no jack), to lift
the receiver and dial the old number
with no coins or busy signal, no hurry
to unleash the tides within,
to speak of their life now, as wind
tousles the maples and cattails,
carries their words out over singing birds
and the young fox pausing to drink.
–
Caroline Collins holds degrees in writing and literature from the University of Arkansas. Her poetry collection Presences was published by Parallel Press in 2014. Recent poems have appeared in Bangor Literary Journal, Martin Lake Journal, Parousia, and The Hopper. She currently teaches college-level writing and literature in Georgia.