The telephone rings, late night, each night
You call after 9 pm, after Radio 4 and Coronation Street:
“How are you?”, “How was your day?”
You bring a barrage of facts about neighbours and nightly routines:
“Joan across the road had a fall again”
“The dogs next door keep me awake at night”
Long, one-sided conversations that make you sane,
Break the long boredom of the day,
Paint the night lighter than the blackness of loneliness:
“That young couple down the road moved out today”
“I wish that that cat didn’t keep coming into the garden”
Your own fear of the bleakness of long dark nights fill up the phone
with trivial details and half lost memories.
You tend to end just about 10.
Ready for the next nightly installment of news.
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