Tomorrow Morning

she's going to call tomorrow morning
and I will wait by the phone
preparing myself for just about anything
fifteen rounds of sparring
throwing lefts and rights about Malcolm
Martin
Medgar
or just ourselves

when I hear her voice for the first time
is it the sound of a gentle stream floating by
as I rest underneath the shade of an old tree
or is it the sound of a mighty wind
a hurricane hiding from behind dark clouds
or maybe something in between

she's going to call tomorrow morning
so I must either brush up on my street etiquette

Shakespearean soliloquies
militant revolutionary politics
Barry White bedroom banter
or do what I have done for all these years
just be me
and nothing else in between

the phone will ring
but will she smile
as she says she likes to do
although her eyes will penetrate my laptop
as I search for answers to questions yet formed

mission
impossible
yes
no

choosing to accept the responsibility of teaching
or being taught
of laughing
or making her laugh
of stimulating her intellect
or accepting new knowledge

but first
when she calls
tomorrow morning
the ringing piercing the quiet solace my sunrise

the first thing I must do
when she calls tomorrow morning
is to
answer the phone