Phone Call: A Poem by Sujatha Sairam

A gentle breeze…
awakened the withered soul,
Just then the doorbell too….an alarming sound.
Holding the walking stick,
he went to see who was at the door.
Wearing fluorescent clothes and a cap,
With a bundle of wires nestled on the shoulders,
stood a Herculean lineman.
Husky voice as expected…
“How can I help you Sir?”
“I’d been waiting for you day long,
Alas! My wait is over, check the phone there, please!!!!”
A desperate voice it was.
The lineman checked everything around the corner,
“I’m done Sir, guess there’s no problem.”
The old man in a forlorn tone,
“Oh! Is it then why isn’t there a call from my son,
It’s eons…since I’ve heard him.
No phone calls from him.”
Tears welled up….the lineman had no words,
Silently left the place, leaving the doors ajar.