BELONGING

We keep ’um silenced to avoid hearing the rings that don’t come.

Eyes often glued to the silenced tube.

Cause hearing may lead to

listening

and then we’d have recognize

we’d have to realize

we may even romanticize

the dozens of calls we must have missed

we keep waiting in anticipation

finally giving into the temptation to take another peek at the empty screen.

“We know you busy!”...

THEY all say hiding the truth

THEY just don’t feel like it

OR

for whatever reason...

Cause it’s theirs

not mines...

We called the last time

remember?

So, the elders

the pushed asides

the don’t answer that

the I’m not here...

Sitting in darkened rooms, curtains drawn

We puff,

puff,

puff

away...

Come go to the store for me baby...

giving into the urge. Longing for...

SURE!

Too often, not always, but too often

they knows there’s gon’ be change left over

there always is...on purpose.

But that’s ok cause at least it’s a bit of company

We can spray away the sense of silence.

But answer me this...

Where is the BE-longing in that?

P.S. Perkins, Poet and PHL Board Communication Consultant

2024