Sin and Separation: A Trilogy

II. Cradle

All I hear is ring-ring,
ring-ring. All I see is
your anger, angry face
staring, not answering.

All I feel is loss. My child,
growing without me, learning words
from elsewhere, other words.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring, minutes
pass, the ringer most likely off. Machine
designed to ease communication
has silenced me, made a bell of me.

Ring-ring rings my ears now to count time,
long long after I've thrown
the receiver to its cradle,
and me to mine.


Cor, 1999