A message left
On my voicemail
I had no idea it was there
I did not see it anywhere
Inconsequential really
I did not find it nearly
I press play, you say
Hi, it’s me, you’re not there
I’ll call back soon
Later in the afternoon
A snippet in time
Now a bookmark of mine
To a different space
Another paradigm
A conversation from our place
I remember the call that afternoon
memories from that August noon.
A temporal rift between then and now
The hardest of times yet
precious and expansive somehow
Through extremes together we bound
This shared place became profound.
I can’t wish the journey away
Even though you couldn’t stay
It’s different now and good,
except though, you’re not here today
… I discover a voicemail
and no longer know where you are.
A lasting disconnect.
A silence to hold and keep.
This casual message
No longer inconsequential
The comfortable assumption,
no longer presumption.
I press play today
Hi, it’s me, you’re not there
I’ll call back soon
later this afternoon…
But you’re no longer there.
You’ll not call back this afternoon.
We’ll not talk again soon.
You already did call back
that August noon.
© 2026 Beck Lou. All rights reserved.
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