Poem: “27 voice messages”

27 voice messages

There are
27 voice messages
in your cell phone
I inherited –

27 missed calls
you’ll never
be able to answer.

It’s almost
7 months since
I first spotted them,

7 days after
the evening you left us.

I imagine
27 messages
of concern, perhaps
from faraway friends –

27 calls,
a week or a day
too late to be heard.

I won’t open them;
they’d only serve
to remind me of

the last hours I still
could hope somehow
you’d stand up.

For Dad. Ana Ribeiro, 10/02/2017

A Global Studies doctoral degree holder and former newspaper reporter, avid eater, pseudo-philosopher and poet, occasion-propelled singer, semi-professional socializer, movie addict, Brazilian-American nomad. In this space, she will share some of her experiences and (mis)adventures regarding various topics, with special attention to social issues.

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