Missed Call

Coffee brews.

I found an old cd
from heaps of trash in a place
Of too many memories

Now Mozart plays,
floods the room, fills the too many
spaces of a life
permeates the too hardened
walls of time
leaves me grounded
And yet free
The birds without fail
sing their serenade
Atop our Orchid trees

I sip from my cup.
The phone rings
But the pen is in my hand
And the paper awaits
It has begun to rain.

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