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North American Dreaming: Phone Booth Graffiti

William Burkholder finds poetry in a phone booth.

For more poems do visit Bill's Web site http://www.freewebs.com/nirvanasgate/index.htm

You come to me in cotton shoes,
Wind blown clouds,
Ocean blues.

Speaking of unspoken truths
Tilted slant
In telephone booth.

Numbers scratched,
In aluminum,
Cryptic notes from someone.

Poetic effigies,
In little red houses,
For you and me.

A ring, ring,
A ring a ding ding,
Ringing, singing, to me.

Such the numbers,
The words display,
Standing in phone booth today.

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