If I'm here in the Kitchen

If I’m here in the kitchen,

The signal’s good -

A strong four bars.

I can see the garden,

The abstract panels

Of dusk through the windows,

The dark, swaying vine

Conducting your words.

An unseen hand it brittles the line,

Dulls the brilliant reception -

So I go through the smells of the garden… and…

Out on the street, phone in hand,

I wave to a grinning child on the bus.

And our connection?

It’s suddenly crystal clear.

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