On the sidewalk,
by the pay-phone,
someone dropped
a thousand peso
Golden Garcia
and I used it to call you.
That must have been
enough.
Connecting me
and Mexico City
with you
and Oklahoma City,
but there was only
your machine.
You visit your Mother
on Sundays,
since she got sick.
I felt so foolish
not remembering,
suddenly unsure
what to say.
I didn’t leave
a message.

by-Doug Mathewson