The Phone Rang
by
Jay Frankston



Fifteen years before the flood
I was riding a bus
with my briefcase on my lap.
I could measure the distance
between dos and don'ts
like steps in a square dance
twirling me around the flame.
and then the phone rang.

When the meeting broke up
we all went home and dug our wells
but I left my briefcase on the bus
and it sizzled on the back burner.
There was something in it
that was very important
and it found its way into my dreams.
I was caught in a storm
the briefcase floating down the river
or falling out the window
and then the phone rang.

Was it a bus or the subway?
Did I really have a briefcase?
I can't remember now
It's all so vague.
But it was important, very important
just before the phone rang.

Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.

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