Dial Tones

Days of phone booths
strewn like numerous sentinels
those pit stop lifelines sprouting on every corner
have faded into a distant recollection
a simple time echo before cell phone frenzy.

I can drive miles on city streets and never find one
the few I do often see don’t work
and the no longer are a complete booth,
just this cover with a phone inside ,
lacking any phone book.

There was a moment
when those booths were way stations ,
places you could close the door,
feel the quiet against the street chaos
then call a familiar voice
all for a quarter.

Now the few I find
just are mere shells
often missing windows,
overhead lights don’t work
or they are missing receivers.

Perhaps it is progress
maybe it is the predictable transition
from one style of life to another
yet I miss those booths
as a little chamber of refuge
where you could collect your thoughts
while hearing the dial tone
that made you relax mid all the stress.