The Missing Days

I missed you on the phone last night. 
I'd glance at it from time to time 
As though to draw from it your words. 

The moments, one more hill to climb 
For tired legs, those wingless birds: 
But no delivery, no prime. 

Stray thoughts that rumble by in herds: 
Of how the winds these days will bite, 
And all we could, if we just might.

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Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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