One Phone Call to Change
by: Little Ster

A church sits on a lonely corner,
with a lonely soul inside.

Memories of a drive through New York,
with the radio blaring through the blown out speakers.
An adventure. A risk. Freedom.

Bright lights flash,
red, pink, blue.
Another red light run,
no amber warning.

One phone call,
all it took,
with change still clinking in the phone booth.

A broken street light flickers,
on and off.
The sounds of mice,
running away down the street.

Thoughts of birthdays,
a father, and a bright pink home,
filter out the sunroof,
just to enter the window,
with the same breath of air.

The puddles of taxis
and the rain from the sky,
dance across the concrete stage.
in an empty truck stop lot,
a place of broken memories.

The gum chewing waitress,
waiting tables to go home
by a church with not a soul inside.