What Happens in a Lifetime

something that's lost

moving so remarkably fast

wandering the byways of

the scottish highlands

my cell takes a shot

of a red telephone box

and sends it with a smiling emoji

half-way around the world

back on this side

of the warming atlantic

an image of an antique

vinyl house phone

decorating the entry-way table

of my neighbor's chic

retrograde home

why does it happen

so deliriously quick

even with billions

of pictures caught in bytes

on illuminated screens

it’s over before it begins

so much left to say

so many unfinished

conversations that

really never started

with all the tellings

and whispers and mutterings

with all the prayers

and telecommunications

you’ve departed and no

messages i can record

or shout over the air

will ever be enough

nothing will get you

to span the vast void

from there where you are

to here where i'm listening

and call me back