by Caroline Whalley
A bright red box, obtrusive on the ‘B’ road through a Derbyshire Coal Board estate, You could arrange to meet up and make or wait for calls Black heavy phone in its cradle with its umbilical cord, dark brown twisted, reaching to the dialling box No cards invented. Exact coins required Money placed in the slot, reserves set ready, in the phone booth on the black top, careful not to drop. Once pennies were inserted Button A was pressed This silver protrusion, gave permission to request exchange of voices, views and news. Or button B was pushed connection now ceasing Coins for retrieving.
Day 18, of ‘one a day’ poems. By the end of April 2021, 30 poems will create a series. Each poem covers a fragment, a snippet taken consecutively throughout a day.