Wrong Number

Poem By Les Derbyshire

The phone rang early this morning.
I ran to answer it,
Still wet from the shower.
As soon as I picked up, I knew;
Wrong number,
She was calling someone else.
I tried to tell her:
Hang up.
Dial again.
But she wasn't listening,
She must speak those words she'd been rehearsing,
Empty herself of what she had to say.
I ceased to hear,
My numbed brain refused to understand,
But my heart knew
That when she said goodbye
I would never see her again.

© Les Derbyshire April 2009

Comments about Wrong Number

Dear Les This happened to me many times. Even though we tried to tell them they don’t want to listen to us. They still try to explain why they are calling and whom they are calling to. Nice little poem. Thank you Nooruddeen
Oh, a 'what it could have been' scenario. It is touching, because there are times when we have surreal experiences like this that it somehow touched us - she could have been a beautiful woman who might fall in love with you and vice versa. It is the hopleless never give up romantic in me, hence this is how I understand this poem. I enjoy this poem tremendously.

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