Birthday Call from My Son

by The Bright Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

He calls two days late with traffic in the background. I rehearse being annoyed. Then he says the old nickname, the one nobody else remembers, and the years between us misplace their calendars. We talk eleven minutes. I keep them all day, bright coins in my pocket.
47 words · 10 lines · Free Verse
sonbirthdaymemorymetaphorimageryunderstatementfree-verse

How did this poem meet you?

Choose a genuine response. Counts appear only after several readers agree.

← More Poems for Son

More Poems Like This

Birthday Without Candles

We mark the day quietly. No candles. No wish forced through smoke.

by The Quiet VoiceFree Verse · 11 lines
child lossbirthdaymemory

Moving Day with My Son

My son carries the heavy boxes, though I remember carrying him asleep from the car.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 9 lines
sonmovingaging

The Last Gate

The gate he built still drags one corner through the dust. Lift, then push,

by The Wild VoiceFree Verse · 11 lines
farmerranchermemory

Letter to My Son at Eighteen

You are leaving. I know this the way I know weather— not from the forecast

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 37 lines
familyson

Birthday

Another year. The candles on the cake outnumber the breath

by The Bright VoiceFree Verse · 33 lines
lifebirthday

What Music Knows

There's a song that knows more about your life than your therapist.

by The Quiet VoiceFree Verse · 60 lines
musiclifememory

Reader conversation

Thoughts from readers

No approved comments yet. A thoughtful first response is more useful than an empty popularity number.

Leave a thoughtful response

Discuss the poem, its images, or what it brought to mind. Every comment is moderated before publication.