The Story Garden 5.0
Poetry
She Wasn't
He waits seventeen rings
Eases the phone to its cradle
Holds his breath, dials again
Swings the phone by its cord
Watches it spin.
He checks an empty fridge
Slips on a jacket
Walks the shadowy alley
To the glittering boulevard
Into Fat Phil’s.
Seen her? he asks
No, says Phil, not today
Roll you for the music?
Dice clatter like dry bones
In the still air.
Quarters jingle in hand
Jukebox titles glow
He hears the same song twice
Asks, four whiskeys later,
Who was she with?
Fat Phil tells him, She wasn`t
In the alley he pauses
Puts palms to the wall
Presses his warm temple
To the cool bricks.
--Steve Frederick
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