THE WRONG PHONE NUMBER

For hours,
he talked on the phone.
twisting its curled cord
around his finger,
expressions on his face
changing frequently.
He cracked a smile at times,
other moments
howls of laughter could be heard,
always listening with intensity.

Shared
were stories of the past,
tales of the present,
recollections of school recess,
of
childhood summers
at the neighborhood pool.

All along,
a wrong phone number
had been dialed,
two strangers
becoming quick friends.
A decision was made,
where to meet,
to break bread together,
as brethren do.

The day arrived
anxiously awaiting the hour.
There she stood,
and waited.
He saw her
from a distance,
continuing to walk on,
not liking what he saw.
She patiently
leaned against the fence post,
not knowing
he had already passed by.

Beauty
had already been seen from within,
but
vanity
remained
the grand master.

Left behind,
she feels empty.
Later,
she will understand
her character
is the
one filled
with love,
God’s Spirit
and the caring
for others.

Will he
ever understand?
Maybe.
At that time,
he will apologize
to the girl,
forever leaning
on the fence post,
realizing
vanity
is never
the grand master.

~Marie T. Morrison~