||[Apr. 13th, 2004|05:53 pm]
Called the clinic awhile ago,|
Leaving a message for someone I know.
The woman answering knew my voice.
"Remember me?" said she, "I'm Debby Joyce."
"Debby's a stranger to me," I hissed.
"She disappeared long ago, doesn't exist."
Silence was all I could hear on the phone.
I hung it up quickly, my face like stone.
After awhile I changed my mood.
Called to apologize for being so rude.
"I don't want to talk to you," she said.
There followed a click, the line went dead.
Later I felt regretful and ill.
I drank a few beers, swallowed a pill.
The telephone rang later on in the night.
She said she was sorry for getting uptight.
"That's all right," I said with a smile.
"Happens to all of us once in a while."
I asked her a question, I wanted to know,
"Why'd you disappear so long ago?"
Her life became like a big black cape.
Her mind was in trouble, had to escape.
She moved back home and cleared her head.
"So what are you doing now?" I said.
"I'm seeing this really special guy.
We're getting married in late July."
"I think you should meet him, you'd get along fine.
Let's go out and have coffee sometime."
Then she gave me a wedding invitation,
Close to the end of our short conversation.
"I'll let you go now," she said at the end.
Politely she thanked me for being a friend.
I hung up the phone and went back to sleep.
A windstorm of memories blew somewhere deep.
Pieces of time scattered out thru the night,
blown away distant -- lost, out of sight.
Good times grow short, they change like the weather.
Goodbye, Debby Joyce -- Goodbye Forever.
© 1988, Gerald Fitzgerald