I wake up slowly
like slow-motion, like soft jazz,
like every movie you've ever seen
about tragedy,
where the main character fades in from black
and
the sound of a cell phone ringing gets louder as the camera focuses
and the person,
let's call it a her, and let's call her Sally
Sally
opens her eyes
and it's like a mist or a fog still
for a few seconds
which are their own unique eternity and existence
and then Sally answers the cell phone
says "hello?" in that groggy, confused way people do when they've just woken up
and then the room is quiet
and then Sally's head is full of ringing
and you never know exactly what was said on the line
because of all the ringing
but you know it's bad news
because the next scene
Funeral
or
Crying in a bedroom
or
Blankly staring off into space.

I used to hate those scenes in movies.
I always wondered what was said
over the phone.

But now I understand.
Because bad news hits so hard sometimes
we can't remember the exact words that were said
only the dread.

Only the dread.