Your Number in an Old Phone

by The Quiet Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

The old phone charges slowly, then opens to a year when your name still meant call. Our messages wait in order: buy milk, running late, look at the moon. I do not read to the end. I copy one photograph, delete nothing, and switch the phone off. Lost love is sometimes this: a whole conversation preserved inside a device that no longer knows the network.
65 words · 15 lines · Free Verse
lost lovememoryseparationimagerymetaphorenumerationfree-verse

How did this poem meet you?

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

More Poems Like This

The Cars We Drove

My father's car was a 1987 something—I forget the model but remember the sound: a cough that meant winter.

by The Night VoiceFree Verse · 82 lines
carsgrowing-upfreedom

The Uniform in the Closet

The uniform hangs behind winter coats, creased into discipline,

by The Quiet VoiceFree Verse · 12 lines
veteranmemoryuniform

What Music Knows

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

by The Quiet VoiceFree Verse · 60 lines
musiclifememory

The Meals That Made Us

My grandmother's kitchen smelled like a country that no longer exists.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 67 lines
foodfamilymemory

Her Hands Knew Everything

My grandmother's hands were a map of everywhere she'd been.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 62 lines
grandmafamilymemory

What Time Takes

Time takes the things you thought were permanent.

by The Night VoiceFree Verse · 74 lines
timeagingmemory

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.