Calling

by Kelley White

I’m trying to reach the cemetery trustees, I cry
help me out here, there’s some form, I forget
what my mother said about it, I don’t remember
how we do this thing, it just makes me heartsick
yes, I’ll leave another message, tomorrow
perhaps you’ll call me back after a night’s sleep
that’s what all this is about isn’t it? Sleep
we all crave it so often, then we all cry
when it’s granted to those we love. Tomorrow
might be your last. Really. I’d like to forget
about it, after all you keep living, heartsick
but living, though each day you remember
less and less. And what you do remember
you get stuck on—the dog, the car, yes, sleep
I tell you, you need sleep, I’m heartsick
trying to hang up the phone so I can cry
without you hearing, and then I forget
how hard things are for you, say I’ll call tomorrow
and then I don’t call, every day’s tomorrow
and no day is, there may not be another, remember
that day is coming soon. Sometimes I forget
to call, my mind plays tricks, wait ‘til you’re asleep
and I know it’s too late in the evening. Cry
myself to sleep. I keep failing you, heartsick
whatever I do isn’t enough. This heartsick
writing isn’t worth today, won’t be worth tomorrow
either. Not today, not yesterday, I didn’t cry,
not for my father, nor my mother, remember
I’m not that kind of person. I can sleep
through anything, I’m tough, don’t forget
I can handle it—actually I can’t forget
how much I miss you, even now I’m heartsick
and you’re still alive, but diminished, sleep
you need sleep, we’ll talk again tomorrow
I promise, I’ll call again, I’ll remember
but I didn’t call, and now you can’t speak. Cry
now, we’re past forgetting, we’ve lost tomorrow
heartsick old friends, what we remembered lost
between us, oh sleep in kindness, then I’ll cry.

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