Chris Lawrence Phoneography
4:30am
spelltime hour of silence
light defaces the sky
and sun confronts glass,
i am a discordant instrument
out of tune,
field and track make profiles
in the light,
rabbit flashes white tail
crows beckon with raw calls,
everyone is sleeping,
alone without cellphone coverage
or far reaching internet,
my problems an essential alphabet
to be categorized and processed
without many answers,
flushed with a sense of panic
brighter light folds about me,
besides dad gone since january
people move about my head
reaching for my attention
often stumbling,
sipping coffee
i asked them to be patient
my service was slow
attention would come
from the sleep abandoned
most awake now,
allowing the light to reach my retina
but there it stopped,
inside was still a bleak landscape
of whatever,
and i had not cleaned it up yet
velvetmedia 