Poem: A Phone Is Ringing

A Phone Is Ringing

It sounds like a phone
that plugs in to the wall,
nothing cellular, though,
what sound can't be made
by those devices? 
I do not know where it is,
of some open window
is letting it sing into the night
or if some other, a stranger
is about with their phone,
another guest or a member
of the hotel staff.  It is ringing,
no, it has stopped ringing.
Was it answered, or
did it end with no response?
It is nothing I know
or can know, is nothing
but the questions
that come, that ask
for stories to fill
all the blanks
in the ledger of the world.

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