View From My Window

the phone rings

At 7 a.m.; it is my father, telling me he had to cancel
Our plans to go to my favorite restaurant,
You know the one I'm talking about, it has
That really nice chandelier hanging from the ceiling,
And the endless supply of breadsticks.

Outside, it looks as if it is going
To rain-dark storm clouds, the smell of worms
In the air.  I'm not hungry anymore.
Besides, the breadsticks never fill me up.


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the phone rings

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