The Waters Called

The first ring,
And they stand still,
Could it be for them?

The first ring
Brings eyes to them,
They want the attention

The first ring
Brings eyes on them,
They recoil at the stares

The second ring
And they look back
Look around

The second ring
They begin to suspect
There is a message for them

The second ring
Someone must have that song,
I can’t be the only one

The third ring
Out comes the bag
From under the coat

The third ring
And the hand fishes
The gap for the device

The third ring
Now out in the open and louder
Until the voices replace it

With that music
Coming out of a little box,
Straining to the max

They should be embarrassed,
But when my phone rings,
I will jump up,

Someone remembers me.

Published by Benjamin Nardolilli

A little bit about myself, I am a twenty four year old writer currently living in Arlington, Virginia. My work has appeared in Houston Literary Review, Perigee Magazine, Canopic Jar, Lachryma: Modern Songs of Lament, Baker’s Dozen, Thieves Jargon, Farmhouse Magazine, Elimae, Poems Niederngasse, Gold Dust, The Delmarva Review, Underground Voices Magazine, SoMa Literary Review, Heroin Love Songs, Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue, Cantaraville, and Perspectives Magazine. In addition I was the poetry editor for West 10th Magazine at NYU and maintain a blog at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com. Thanks for reading

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