A Cold Calling. A poem by David C Chinn

Locked down, Locked in, Locked out,
I hear young voices calling when I dial.

A scramble, then a ‘Papa is it you?
We miss you, the new puppy’s here

called Freddie and he’s very cute.
Get off Sophia, let me tell him first.’

Next time we Facetime; each lovingly prepares a quiz
to test on animals, their homes and young.

My home is empty though, young left an age ago,
and will not venture back whilst still I shield.

No squirming bodies on the sofa sat,
nor pleas for one more story Papa, please!

Instead, a final sound, the phone line buzzing, dead
inside my head. Anticipation all that that now sustains.


David Chinn lives in Glasgow, South Side. Before retirement he was Principal Teacher of Art and Design at Oldmachar Academy. Over the past two years he has returned to a long-standing love of writing and performing his own work.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *