Too early to call

Short of midnight I dozed off.
My cell phone stampeded my sleep.
I jumped up, it had been just on 2 A.M.
The house still, my emotional alarm shrill.
I don’t like 2 A.M. calls.
Not at all. Not at all.
When I looked, it had been mum.
Was she drinking rum?
Fear a tune began to hum.
Sometimes I found fear’s taste
to be too cut and base.
A single line of text message
that tested my composure and,
to respond threatened total exposure.
My mind was batting an independent streak.
It was a no thinking gymnastic freak.
Or was it me having an emotional leak?
While I massaged my thoughts from fantastic to bleak.
If a 2 A.M. call is booty, you know or you are slow.
My sleep had been assassinated by blow after blow.
Rest had fled from me, fascinated by the energy glow.
At times a 2 A.M. call can bring bling,
but if not you don’t want that ring.
You can’t sing if you don’t know the tune.
I am at the hospital with your sister Junie.
The phone is heavier than normal,
in your hand going cold and thermal.
No answer. No answer is a real prancer.
Now you have to become destiny’s romancer.
In this play of the unknowns,
you are cast as a blind dancer.
In a flash for the door you dash,
telling yourself not to do anything rash.
Considering potential social hash tags,
and keeping emotional baggage out your bag.
It will be a long day, bereft of all play.
Would it be painted in colors and hues or shades of gray.
To whatever end on this live stage I would have to stay.
Why could she not be a May or Ray and her darkness slay?

Knight Truelove Poems – CI-41982043818