Labyrinth

I have these numbers—
I call every day but
no one picks up the phone

I don’t actually know
if it rings, how it rings,
in the rooms of the house

that I call or why
the people living there
won’t answer

I imagine the rings
echoing like ripples
along a corridor,

searching for
an alcove or an ear
to bump up against—

for the line
to reach its destination
for a voice to answer

 

In response to Via Negativa: Pilgrim's Progress.

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