Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Accent

The ringer sounded off
over the sound of soft music,
he answered nervously
and listened closely to the words
coming across the air

She was driving some road he'd never seen,
and he wondered what she looked like
under the dim glow of dash lights
and the street bulbs as they'd bounce off her eyes

And when she spoke
it was as soft as the breath of a sleeping angel,
like a cool, silken sheet covering his ears
and the feeling from her smile
came through the phone like a whisper