Dreaded Call

Written for:  One Womans Quest


Let your imagination run wild with this one. One phone call can change the state of things. I know I can easily think of of a number of phone calls in my life: some funny, some tragic, some bursting with promise.

Dad was in rehab, 
though we knew
there was not much
they could do.  Water
built up, organs were
failing.  We went to
see him and held
his hands.  His eyes
fluttered, body shook.
We corralled a nurse
who assure us that Dad
would be much better later,
after more nutrition 
was provided.  We left,
already bereft, feeling
like we should have stayed.
Back at Mom's, family
gathered.  Within ten
minutes, phone rang.
The nurse told me
my father was gone.

VJ’s Weekly Challenge #122: the phone call 

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
This entry was posted in Purple's Home and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Dreaded Call

  1. V.J. Knutson says:

    Is this true? The poem gave me chills – happens so often that when the family departs so does the loved one – as if to spare further misery. Thanks for participating.


  2. Pingback: The Call That Never Happened – One Woman's Quest II

Comments are closed.